Awakenings
by Davan
Summary: Hinamori took two years to wake from her coma. When she does no one could have expected the changes needed to bring her back or the sacrifices one Captain would make to show her the path to redemption. A HitsuHina fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Story**: Awakenings  
**Author**: Davan  
**Summary**: Hinamori took two years to wake from her coma. When she does, no one could have expected the changes needed to bring her back, or the sacrifices one Captain would make to show her the path to redemption.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or any of its characters!

**AN:** This story is a much more serious fic about Hinamori and her Captain. I will research and do my best to properly portray everything in this fic because of this some chapters may take longer than others to update.

Also I do not want this to turn out being one of those 'torture Hitsugaya fics' I want this to be a story about overcoming. So the angst and romance will have its place and time so please bear with me!

Shiny new edited chapter! Everyone thank the amazing beta!

**This story is very much spoiler heavy. If you do not read the manga, or have not gotten to episode 60 in the anime this story could revel things you don't want to know about!**

_Chapter One_

There was nothing glorious about battle. It was death. It was the smell of blood and infection, the cries of both the wounded enemy and your own, the knowledge that if you do not sleep with one eye open, you faced not waking up the next morning. The absolute paranoia that would follow you into the darkest recess of your mind, the lack of sleep, mud in your food, or worse, and always being either wet or cold, sometimes both. There was no happy medium, no great feeling of justice for fighting for what was right. Only the vague hope that your side would come out on top in the end. That you would survive the blood shed, cold, war cries, and the ever present need to kill to live.

That was war.

War was hell.

There was no peace. There was no rest. There was only battle, blood, and death.

Even in Soul Society where people were supposed to be free and safe from these things, it had almost been two years since anyone had held that delusion.

He watched the battlefield. The most recent skirmish had been over for an hour. He had volunteered to stay behind and make sure all the men that were still alive were able to get out. A captain guarding there backs would make that chance much higher.

It wasn't that they hadn't learned how to guard their own backs. In the last year, they had lost more death gods than they had in the last thousand years. Divisions were sliced in half. There wasn't anyone who hadn't lost a friend to _something_. Whether it was the blade of an Allankar, one of the traitors, or to any of the elements that had plagued the camps: ambushes, rock slides, cave-ins, and the brutal winter weather; too many had lost their lives and shed their blood for the glorious task of defending what was right, what they had believed in.

Some days he wondered if perhaps they weren't all so full of themselves that they were bringing their whole world down around their heads. A grim look settled across his features at the sight of one of their men struggling towards the safety of the doorway from this cursed place. He singled for Matsumoto. She nodded her agreement and moved forward to help the man while Hitsugaya guarded her back.

He had almost lost her to such an attack once, his vice-captain. It had been a clever trick for a high ranking hollow to force a lower ranking death god to approach a captain and his vice-captain in an attempt to get a mortal wound into either of them. It had been Matsumoto's quick reflexes that had saved her. The battled that had followed had been quick; the hollow had not been interested in a full fight but a simple stab and run. Matsumoto had only received a minor blow to her ribs. They had been lucky, any deeper and he would have had to find himself a new vice-captain.

His eyes narrowed as he focused as much of his attention as he could allow on the man. He would not let a second mistake deprive him of his second in command. The Captains were fortunate, they had lost very few of their higher seated members, and all  
vice-captains and captains, except for the traitors, were accounted for.

The closest that they had come to loosing the vice-captain, besides his brush with Matsumoto, had been Ise Nanao, Vice-captain to the 8th division, though she had not been in battle at the time.

There had been several attacks on one of the encampments they had built to ensure reinforcements could arrive with record speed to any area of high hollow concentration. Upon arrival, Vice-Captain Ise Nanao had been asked to check the area for any unusual activity. She and two other death gods had gone up the cliffs around the area to see if there was a vantage point from which the hollows could attack without being seen. One of the recruits had managed to set off an elaborate alarm that had sent Nanao plummeting down the cliff.

This would not have been a large hassle for any of the higher seats in the divisions but the ensuing rubble did not allow for an easy escape. According to her division members she had been caught in the rocks to fast for any reaction. The first landslide caused another to land on top of the area where she went under the rubble and it had taken then nearly an hour and a half to uncover her from the rocks. Captain Shunsui had been torn between being livid with her and being terrified for her. He had dug through a large portion of the rubble moving rocks away as if they were nothing more than little pebbles. He and Captain Ukitate Jyuushiro had been called in to lend a hand because the rest of his division feared he was going to injure himself.

If asked, he would have been forced to admit his surprise at the change in mannerism that Captain Shunsui had gone through. The laid-back man was calm but furious; his normal happy manner was gone. In place was a man with the single-minded determination to rescue his vice-captain. The look that haunted his eyes Hitsugaya had seen more than once reflecting back at him as he looked in the mirror on his bad days. It was then that he realized that Captain Shunsui was in love with Ise Nanao and would rip the whole mountain apart if it meant rescuing her from the rocks that covered her.

He had bent his back to move rock after rock while Ukitate ordered the crews around to ensure that no rocks would slide and cause more damage to the vice-captain than what had already been done. Even with three captains and a hoard of volunteers the work had been slow. When they had uncovered her she had been only half-awake, still dazed by her fall and a quick assessment had shown her cuts, a broken ankle, and broken arm. She had also received a long scratch on her forehead, bruised ribs, and a large number of bruises that were already a deep black. She had been lucky. Several big rocks had landed next to her shielding her from the brunt of the falling rumble, that combined with the small shield she had managed to throw up had saved her life; she would have been crushed otherwise.

Shunsui had taken his elaborate cloak from his shoulders and tucked it around his vice-captain. He lifted her and tucked her against his chest with infinite care, but even then she had hissed in pain at being moved before clutching at his captains cloak as her head spun. They had managed to prevent her from throwing up, but it had been close. Once her head was settled against his shoulder and she was secure in his arms Shunsui had disappeared.

He found out later that she had sustained a rather bad concussion as well. There had been no internal bleeding, but the cut on her forward appeared to have come from the shattering of her glasses. The head wound had healed and the bones set. She was not in the constant wartime procedures that were demanded, and to keep the healers from being taxed too greatly, Captain Unohana and Captain Shunsui had agreed that it would be best to let her body heal naturally. There was still enough fighting going on that the fourth division was taxed to its limits and a cast and healing slaves would take care of the majority of her problems.

This also meant that her Captain hovered constantly when he was not at the battlefield or tending to some other duty. A very good example was when Nanao fell, not used to the awkward gait of the crutches and hampered by her bruises and broken bones, her captain never failed to catch her and carry her wherever she was going. Her cries of outrage were heard through out whatever courtyard they happened to be striding through. No one blamed her. Nanao was used to being self-sufficient and taking care of her captain. These new wounds only hampered her carefully crafted image; they meant that she had to lean on her Captain for assistance.

But Hitsugaya had seen the expression on her Captains face when she wasn't particularly paying attention and he knew it was a lost cause for the vice-captain. Her captain was no more going to let her injure herself than he would have let Matsumoto.

The only good the war had done for anyone was that the 4th division was no longer the least respected and disliked division. The division had done much to gain respect in the last two years. They worked tirelessly to save more of the Gotei 13 than even Hitsugaya had thought they would manage. It was said to be good luck to have a friend in the healing core because they would be the ones to give you the best treatment. So instead of being persecuted for being weak they were now looked at with respect, and called friend.

Captain Unohana's affection towards Captain Kenpachi was now well known. She had made several appearances on the battlefield to heal him when he had gotten himself in over his head. This did not happen often, but the worried expression on the calm Captain while she scolded him for being careless had been the first hint. It had been him showing up with lunch, taking her out on walks when her stress levels were at their maximum, and abusing anyone who so much as looked at her wrong that had been the dead give away.

This also had the added benefit of protection for the 4th division. The 11th division had taken it upon themselves to uphold their captain's affections for the lady by joining in on his abuse towards those who slandered the fourth division with a single mindedness that kept the lower ranks jumping.

He hid his relief when Matsumoto helped the man walk through the doorway back to the Seireitai. He stepped through to follow them. His day was done, another Captain would take the next shift if it came and he was free to head to the fourth division.

Captain Unohana had asked him to come by earlier that day and if he went now he would have time to stop by and see Hinamori before reporting to Yamamoto about today's skirmish.

It was a relatively short walk to the 4th division. He forced the weariness that hung around him like a cloak away. They would threaten him with some sort of restorative drink that would taste far worse than it would smell if he didn't. When Captain Unohana was feeling generous, she would add honey to the drink but it had been a long time since anyone had had time to offer them honey with anything.

Vice-Captain Koutestu Isane greeted him with a weary smile before motioning him forward with a wave of her hand. People were running around calling for bandages or different tonics. The last of the injured had arrived, it seemed. There appeared to be only a few serious injuries, but all of the wounds no matter how small had to be taken into account. Infection had run high over the course of the wars and the fourth division was very much on a crusade to stop it. Most of the people being healed were for minor wounds or cuts that could get infected.

Captain Unohana looked up at Hitsugaya and motioned for him to take a seat in the chair in front of her desk. "Not that many were injured in the 10th division today." She said.

He nodded. "We are starting to beat them back." There was progress because Aizen was dead and progress because those who were too weak to fight or to scared to lift their swords had been weeded out. It was the harsh reality of war. The only thing they had had against the Allankar had been sheer numbers to throw at them. In the end, they had won. It had come at a heavy cost.

She nodded. Her eyes were distant and he knew she was remembering all the lives that fourth division had been unable to save. All the healers wore that expression these days. They could be sitting and talking to you one moment and the next staring dazedly off into space; with nothing but pain in their eyes. He didn't know what was worse. Being the one who was loosing valuable members of his division or being the one who couldn't save them.

"Hinamori is starting to make progress." Her words broke him out of his own thoughts.

He stared at her. He his eyes were wide with surprise at her words but he couldn't stop his reaction. That was most definitely not what he had been expecting her to say. To update him on the members of his squad who were in critical condition yes. To tell him something had changed towards Hinamori when nothing had changed for so long…

She offered him a small smile. "One of the attendants said she had her eyes open when she went to check on her this morning."

He was staring. He couldn't stop. It had been two years since Aizen had attacked Hinamori. Two years since Unohana had told him that it was no longer physical injuries that held her to her dreams but her mind. That Aizen could have damaged her mind with his illusions in those last seconds before he struck. That there was nothing they could to help or find out exactly what had been done until she woke.

She had not woken. Would not fight past whatever dreams held her captive. Her body was alive because she was a death god and their basic instinct was to fight. And because the fourth division had very skilled healers who could hold the body back from destroying itself. Nevertheless, the healers were loosing the battle to keep her alive. She was wasting away to a shell that was only a shadow of the image that she had been in life.

The nutrients and supplements that they were forcing down her throat would only keep her alive for so long. Her body needed more than drinks and shakes. They were failing. He was loosing her and had been steadily for the last year. It was gradual; a slow decay of her body, in a few more months even if she woke up there would be nothing to save.

She was fading, wasting away to a husk of what she used to be. He was loosing her; his Hinamori. Not even Unohana knew how to bring her back from the abyss that she had sent her mind to hide from the anger and the pain that had descended upon her.

Unohana had been able to explain her reluctance to wake up. Her words had been grave the day the she had told him she might never wake up. Even now, there were nights when he woke with her words ringing through his mind. _"Hinamori may never wake up Captain Hitsugaya and even if she does that does not mean the battle for her life has been won. Sometimes when people go through traumatic experiences like this they never fully recover."_

But this… "What does that mean?"

"It means she is showing progress." Unohana said. "Right now that is all I can tell you."

He nodded. Ikkaku had recently been placed over that division as temporary captain until the decision could be brought before the captains and his captainship could be announced. The same was for Renji. Because Hinamori was the vice-captain for that division, he had put in a request to be made her guardian while she was in her coma. The council had accepted and so all reports and acknowledgments were sent to him. This also meant that if it came down to making the decision to end the life support, as Inoue called it; he would be the one to do so.

"We don't know what is going on Hitsugaya." She broke him out of revere again. "She has been in that state for so long that even if she wakes now there is no guarantee that permanent damage has not been done to her body or mind."

He nodded. Another problem that had discussed in length over many days; Hinamori had simply been asleep for to long. They would have to start off slow with her if she woke. Health-wise she was a mess and physically, she was even worse off. There were just too many factors to be discussed and worked through. And that was with the assumption that her mind would be intact and in one piece. There was always the chance that her long state trapped in her dreams could have warped her mind and even once she woke, the dream world that she had lived in could have become her reality.

If that happened once reality came crashing down around her, her mind could snap and then she would be lost to them.

Too many scenarios, too many possibilities, and all he could do was sit back and wait to see what would happen.

"Thank you for telling me." He said.

She offered him her small smile again. "If there are any more changes I will have you informed immediately."

He offered her a polite nod and stood. She followed suite. "Is there anything else?"

"Your division members that were injured will be fine with some care and a few days rest."

"They have earned it." He said over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. Matsumoto would be wondering where he had gotten himself off to. Being in the field all day did not excuse them from paperwork and she would have had plenty of time by now to clean herself up and get to the office.

That did not necessarily mean that she would be there.

The lights were off when he arrived. Matsumoto would be off drinking, probably with Kira, then. Nights like these when they returned were especially hard on his vice-captain, he knew. Gin had done as strong a number on her as Aizen had done on Hinamori. Unlike Aizen, Gin had loved her. Loved her enough to let her make her own choices and enough respect for her to not try to dissuade her from her own path. It had cost them both; Gin with his secrets; never telling her his plans, and she for believing in the childhood friend against the odds.

In the end he had died with what little honor he had left. Captain Shunsui had been the one to bring the smiling mad man down. He had not been there. He knew from reports that Matsumoto had spoken with him and that Gin had said things in return. She had not offered what had been said and he had not asked. But the haunted look in her expression was fading from her eyes now. And while he knew she would grieve for him for some time she was not consumed by the loss of him. He could almost have thanked Gin for that. He and his vice-captain had been through much, he would not have wanted to loose her to the madman.

Aizen had been different. The man had died with as little grace and dignity that they could offer him. It had taken three to defeat him and his newfound abilities and skills. In the end it had not even been he who had struck the last blow, but Captain Ukitate. The seemingly gentle captain had not spared Aizen. The blow had been quick but it had, by all accounts, been a slower painful death. In the end, the a brilliant mind had died with the taste of his own blood on his lips.

It was fitting.

He felt no remorse for the lost captain and by the end of the war, not even his division had asked for the funeral rights for him. He was left alone, and soon he would be forgotten as anything but the man who had tried to destroy Soul Society and had failed.

He cast a scowl at the paperwork that had accumulated on his desk while he was in the field before picking up one of the many brightly colored pens on his desk. They had been a gift from Matsumoto after the war. They were annoying but he rather guessed that Hinamori would have liked them if she ever woke to see them. These reports were going to Shunsui anyway and Nanao seemed to like the different colors they produced.

He sighed as fingers curled around the pen that he was using to write out one of the several reports that would go to the divisions about today's skirmish. He needed her to wake up, to look at him one more time with her bright joy filled eyes and tell him that it was going to be all right; just once.

Unohana would not give him false hope in this. She knew how hard he had fought the other divisions to keep her alive, to give her this fighting chance. Some, including Mayuri, had wished to cut off the support and see if she could survive on her own. Unohana had informed the creepy captain that she would not have _any_ of her patients tested upon. He had been thankful. In the end it had been Ukitate and Shunsui's support that had won him the right to watch over her while she dreamed.

Now all they could do was pray she would tire of her dreams and come back to the living world before it was too late. Today he had been given hope but it did not promise a recovery.

"Captain Hitsugaya?"

He looked up at Matsumoto, "Kira not in a drinking mood tonight?"

She shook her head. "He has patrol." Well that explained why she was here.

His fingers motioned towards a stack of paperwork. "Make yourself useful then."

She nodded before picking up the stack of papers that he had motioned towards. Her eyes were dull with her grief and so he nodded and went back to his work. She needed her space and he would give it to her.

They worked in silence. Both were trapped in their own thoughts, and the only sound to be heard was the slight scratching of pens on paper. He liked it this way. Some nights when she slept, she would toss and turn for hours distracting him from his work and forcing his thoughts to wonder what could possible make his sturdy help whimper so in her sleep. Those thoughts always lead him back to Hinamori. And then work would be beyond him for the night.

But when they were both awake and working their demons were exorcised for the time being. Matsumoto escaped in two ways, drinking and working; he only ever allowed himself to work. During the war, he had always worried that if he allowed himself to become drunk he would do something rash; like go after Aizen himself. Now he had not taste for it.

And so he spent most of his nights working or planning and when he no longer had any paperwork or anything to plan he would go and sit with Hinamori and talk to her. Some days he just sat and listened to her even, never changing breathing, other nights he told her stories. Anything was better than dreaming.

"Captain," Matsumoto's voice broke him from his thoughts. He looked up at her a brow rising at the sight of the death butterfly on her finger, its wings gentle flapping. He had not felt it come in this evening. That was unusual. Reports were normally felt before they arrived.

"Yes Matsumoto?" he questioned setting his finished stack of papers to the side and picking up another to work on. At her silence he looked up and quirked one brow upwards in question at the expression on her face.

"Hinamori is awake."

And then his world came crashing down.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Author: **Davan  
**Story:** Awakenings

**AN: **Kaori, lleaves, WaterLilly, StarBee, kitty, animeli0us, Kaori, thank you so much for reviewing. Your reviews were _awesome_ and I wish I could respond to you directly, but thank you for taking the time to review my story, each review had me grinning from ear to ear in delight.

m1N I was not able to make your email address work…

To the rest of you who I was able to reply to, thank you again!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any of its characters, either Anime or Manga.

**This Story Contains Spoilers.**

_Chapter Two_

There were days when Hitsugaya Toushirou felt as if the world was dropping out from under his feet. Those days had been frequent during the war. When he was not sure who was winning or who was loosing. When judging the truth of life and death by the amount of bloodshed would destroy a man. Those were they days you knew you would never swim out of the river of blood you were creating.

Today was such a day.

He barely had time to register Matsumoto's words before he found himself moving, his body on autopilot.

"_Hinamori is awake…'_

He had been waiting for those words for two years. Two years of shed tears, of losing all hope that she would wake and would return to him; two year of pain, of sleeping in that forsaken chair next to her bed knowing that she might never fight past the walls of her dreams to return to the living world, to him.

Two years of knowing he loved her. That all the sacrifices he had made for her and all the hopes and dreams he had built around her might never be fulfilled; that he would be cursed to a world without her smile and her laughter; the innocence that belonged solely to her. That the peace that they had worked so hard to bring about; for her and the others destroyed by Aizen's greed; might never be witnessed or enjoyed by her.

Two years, that was how long he had waited, hoped, and prayed to whatever deity it was that looked after the wayward souls of the death gods; two years and the words he had wanted, needed, to hear had finally reached his starving ears.

For the first time in two years, he was at a loss.

His body rushed him towards the fourth division before he could register what it was doing. He had given no thought to it, made no conscious decision. She was awake he would be there; it was as natural as that. By the time he reached the door, to were every fiber of his being longed to be, his brain caught up with his body.

And his brain told him to stop.

Hinamori would be waking for the first time. Her delicate eyes would be greeting the world anew with fresh insight and the healers would need to start immediate examinations. He would only be in the way. And besides the most rudimentary workings, he knew absolutely nothing about healing or helping the mind recover from a trauma like what Hinamori would have had to go through to bring herself back to the living world, to him.

He didn't know what a sight he made standing in front of her room, his hands buried into the depths of his captain's cloak, with as close to as an expression of confusion and worry as he had ever allowed himself to show outwardly. He did realize he must look strange when several lower ranking death gods stared at him in confusion and shock as they stumbled past him, openly gaping. He did not care.

He was lost. He was confused. But what bothered him most was the helpless feeling that washed over him at the realization that he could do nothing at this moment to help her.

"Captain Hitsugaya?" It was Vice-Captain Isane. He was certain that he had never been quite so relieved to the see the blond woman.

"I was informed that Hinamori has woken?" he hated how uncertain he sounded.

The vice-captain nodded. "Yes, Captain Unohana said you would be coming. I can only let you in for a moment, Captain."

He nodded. He had expected that. Yet, the idea of leaving her side now that she woke was no less painful, "If you would." He hated this formality, this need to ensure that they both went by the unspoken rules of their society. Right then he would have given everything for the ability to storm past their rules and regulations, sweep Hinamori close and tell her how much he had missed her; her laugh, her smile, the innocence that she brought to his world, how his heart had longed for this day since she had closed her eyes. The love for her he had discovered buried deep within him.

But he couldn't and wouldn't break the codes that regulated the healing division. He had to much respect for Captain Unohana and her Vice-Captain. For the tireless work they had put in during the war. He would not do any good by being rash here. "Thank you, Isane."

She nodded before motioning for him to follow her. He had made it fairly close to Hinamori's door but security had long ago been placed in front of her room to ensure that no outward disturbances would reach her. He thanked Unohana silently, for the continued discretion, and motioned for them to move aside. The one on the left opened the door and then he was moving through the doorway and towards his first sight of a conscious Hinamori in two years.

The room was dim; he guessed that it was to accommodate her eyes, which would no longer be used to the brightness of the outside world. He almost cried out in frustration when Unohana's taller form blocked her from his sight. He only noticed that his hands had tightened in fists when he caught Isane giving him a concerned look.

Before he could respond to her unasked question Unohana was turning towards them and as his eyes glued to the slight girl behind her, his world stopped.

She was thin. He had watched the gradual decline of her health as the healers had, but seeing her now, sitting up, eyes wide open, he realized how fragile she had become. Her eyes were too big for her face, her cheeks were overly pronounced, the fresh robe was too large for her slight frame, giving her already gaunt body an unnatural look, while it was apparent that it was taking every ounce of her reserves to sit up and look normal for them. She had small visible tremors shaking her slight frame every few seconds and he wondered how long she would be able to sit up without assistance.

She was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen.

She stared at him and he returned her gaze, fighting past the joy and the wonder to give her as calm a glance as he could. It was when her blank look became one of confusion that he felt waves of unease slide through him. It was as if she didn't recognize him.

She turned to Unohana in something like helpless confusion; he felt like he had been punched in the gut by Ichigo in a full rage when she spoke; her words almost too soft for him to catch her words.

"How is he alive?" she whispered ever so softly, "I watched him die, Captain Unohana." Her words were full of emotion, and she looked for all the world as if someone was playing a cruel joke on her. It was when tears pooled in her eyes that he realized something was wrong. As her words registered, the air froze in his lungs and for the second time that day, he was helpless. She thought he had died…

Isane reached out and caught his arm, and he came to an abrupt halt. He had not realized he was striding towards her. Hinamori looked away while Unohana moved in to remove him from her view. He barely felt the hand on his arm that lead him out of the hospital room. His hands were shaking. His head was spinning. All he could do was look at Isane in desperation. "Isane she didn't see what happened between me and Aizen." It was the apprehension in his voice that told him he was close to loosing control and it was the pity in her eyes forced him to gain control.

"Unohana will sort this out, Captain Hitsugaya." She assured him, he might have felt hope from her words if her eyes had held as strong an assurance as her voice.

He fought to keep control of his emotions. It would do no good to force the issue now. Unohana would be doing everything that she could to figure out what was going on and where Hinamori had gotten the image of his death; this was her job. He had to wait. Had to give them the chance they needed to discover what was going on. He hated it.

"We will send you a message as soon as we are aware of something, Captain." Her tone was gentle and he offered her a slight nod. He needed to calm down. It was his mantra. He must control his emotions. If only he could not feel Hyourinmaru's confusion and anger firmly as his own.

He didn't remember the walk back to his office, all he knew was he had to get away. The icy grip that was Hyourinmaru was failing to hold back the emotions that were threatening to spill over. They could not, would not, do so here.

He gave a customary glance through the office, when his eyes revealed no one else in the room, he let go. Ice blasted throughout the room, even as he threw up shields to protect anyone who walked past. He walked to his desk and slammed his fist into the wall watching as the wall cracked and splintered unable to hold up against his anger.

He let go of the ice that lay so deeply in his soul and let it surround him. He needed the ice, needed the chill to not just comfort him but to also to bring stability. It was something he and his soul slayer had developed during the war. When he could no longer handle the stress, the pain of his world, he would retreat and let Hyourinmaru surround him. To bring him peace and calm, for in those minutes or hours he was in a familiar landscape. Something he could control. Hyourinmaru had become his rock, his shelter, and his comfort in a world that no longer contained Hinamori.

He needed that now. Now when it became obvious that something was wrong, some unexpected circumstance that they had not anticipated. His fingers curled into fists and he closed his eyes letting the ice further wrap around him, until he could feel nothing but blessed numbness.

_She thought he had died…_

He did not know how long he sat there, wrapped in grief, pain, and anger. How long he relied on Hyourinmaru to calm him, to absorb the backlash of what he could not contain. Two years of hope had been destroyed, and now he could only pick up the pieces and pray that one day they would fit together once again.

It was only when the sound of Matsumoto's footsteps reverberated throughout the corridor outside that he let the ice recede and with it his anger and confusion. For now, Hyourinmaru would handle the pain; he would take care of the rest.

His Vice-Captain quirked a brow at him as she walked into the room, "that bad?"

He sat at his desk with as much casual interest as he could manage. "Unohana is with her."

She nodded. He looked up from the reports in front of him in surprise when she dropped a cup on his desk and poured sake into it. "You look like you could use a good drink." She said before moving off towards her own desk, a cup in one hand and the rest of the jar in the other.

He took a brief glance at the cup before returning to the paperwork in front of him. The last thing he needed right now was to put the type of drink in his system that Matsumoto would find appropriate for such an occasion.

"Do you want to talk about it?" his pen paused halfway through one of the many signatures that would be required of him.

"Pardon me?"

She propped her chin in her hand and watched him in half amusement. "It helps you know, to get it all off your chest."

"Is that what you and Kira do?" He questioned, "Drink and get things off your chest?"

"No, we just get drunk."

As blunt as always his vice-captain, "then how would you know?" He was never one to beat around the bush either.

"I have tried it." He quirked a brow at her but she just smiled in return. "Now what happened that you felt the need to bring Hyourinmaru out?" When he turned back to his paperwork, she shook her head. "We both know that I will not stop asking. For once, make this easier on yourself."

His other brow rose to join the other at her serious tone. Matsumoto was rarely serious. Only when she had her sword in her hand, when she was dressing down a subordinate, or they were in wartime situations did he see this level of intensity from her. He would have blamed it on the alcohol but her eyes were not glassy and the balance she was showing with her one armed pose said otherwise.

He sighed. It just was not worth the battle that would ensue to fight Matsumoto, not right then. "Hinamori is under the impression that I was killed. And that she witnessed my death."

Matsumoto froze. Under any other day he would have been tempted to laugh at the expression of shock that slide across her face. When her face cleared of emotion he turned back to his paperwork.

"Do you think Aizen did something?" her voice was cautious.

"I don't know. I am hoping Unohana will be able to tell me more later tonight. Isane escorted me out when it was obvious that I was causing her distress." His fingers tightened on the quill. _He _had caused her distress.

Matsumoto nodded. "I can handle the rest of the paperwork if you would like to go and see if they have anything else figured out, Captain. You were in here for quite a while before I came by."

"I think I will work for a while longer, thank you Matsumoto." She nodded before turning her attention back to her papers, to his relief.

His only hesitation with letting Hyourinmaru loose was the loss of time. What would seem like minutes could be an hour or so as they worked together to calm his raging emotions. Emotions that had become more potent as the war had raged on. His ability to control the intake and outtake of what he took in and let out had increased during the war. But when he faltered, he did so spectacularly. He was not perfect in his ability to control his emotions. He was known as the ice-prince in his division, in others as a cold-hearted fighter who could make quick decisions and was ruthless when those decisions were made. While others who knew the force of his temper, said nothing.

It was a heavy cost but one he had been willing to pay. To stop Aizen and bring Hinamori the justice that she deserved. Today he had come as close to loosing control as he ever had. Hinamori was a part of his world. Someone he had held dear from the very first time he had laid eyes upon her and one of the few people he would sell his soul to protect.

_She had seen him die. _

How many times had she relived that in her mind? Had it been once? Had she turned to Aizen for comfort? He felt the pen snap in his hand, if something she had never seen could be conjured so strongly in her mind that she believed it to be real, what else had happened while she had been in her coma?

This time he felt the hell butterfly enter the room before Matsumoto did. He reached out his hand and called for it; it moved away from its path toward his vice-captains and headed towards his outstretched hand.

He listened to its message carefully before nodding. "I am going to head out now Matsumoto, finish your paperwork then head to bed. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow."

She looked up before poring herself another drink, "of course."

This time he took his time to the infirmary. It had only been a couple of hours since he had last been there and he wasn't completely sure how in much detailed information they would have for him or even what specifics that would have come up with in two hours.

He would not get his hopes up.

His arrival was expected. The doors were opened for him and then promptly shut. He quirked a brow at the guards but they lowered their eyes and refused to meet his gaze.

He turned and something rose up in him, clutching his chest in an icy fist when he saw Isane standing guard outside Hinamori's door. In the last two years, Hinamori had always had door guards, never before had Isane stood guard. "Captain Unohana is in her office Captain Hitsugaya."

He nodded and forced himself away from the door. Unohana wanted to see him; he would go there first, hopefully she would have the answers he wanted.

"Hitsugaya, Hinamori's condition is graver that what we had anticipated." She motioned for him to sit the moment he entered her office.

He was grateful that she wasted no time in getting down to what he wanted to know, he did not think he could have handled the suspense, "How?"

She sighed and offered him a cup of tea which he took gratefully. He winced at the bitter taste, certain that she had put some sort of calming draft into it. The grim look on her face warned that he was probably going to need it. He took another swallow.

"The last two years Hinamori has lived in her mind things have become twisted. The last thing that she can remember is that you sealed her into a room and Aizen came to her and told her that everything was going to be all right. I am not sure if Aizen planted the memories of you being killed or if she dreamed it up herself. Right now, she isn't talking."

He closed his eyes. Aizen, the bastard, he had never wished so fervently for someone to come back to the living world so that he could kill them again. Was this his final act of vengeance against them all? That if Hinamori were to survive they would have already lost her?

"That is not all."

His eyes snapped open at the weary tone her voice took on. "Hinamori is quite convinced that Aizen is alive and well and ready for her to return as his vice-captain."

He froze, his cup half way to his mouth his eyes wide, "She what?" In all their preparations and in all the discussions that he and the lady healer had gone through in the middle of the night trying to predict what might be happening with her, they had never come across the idea that she might not remember the stabbing.

That she might not remember the most brutal of betrayals in the whole of the soul society history. That the very fabric of her world had been torn asunder by the man she trusted most; the man she had worshiped. It was almost inconceivable to him. He had who had spent two years planning the man's death; used every waking moment to discover how to bring about the mad man's downfall, his vengeance for her.

She remembered nothing of it.

"What else?" he questioned, seeing the hesitation in her eyes, and knowing that he would have to face it one day, sooner was better than later.

"She went looking for him tonight."

He had thought he was done being shocked. "How did she get out?" his voice snapped across the room to his fellow captain, he did not care. "She is no shape to use demon arts."

"She went out the window." Her tone was bemused, he was sure his expression was pole axed.

"How did she make it out the window?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know…"

"No. It is not physically possible for her to have climbed out that window; she collapsed from exhaustion shortly after you left, her body taxed to its limit. We have already ruled her having someone help her out, as her window faces most of the fourth divisions' courtyard ensuring that someone would have seen such a thing. As it was it was the sight of her climbing out that alerted us."

He set his cup of tea on the table with exaggerated calmness. "I think I should check in on her now, if you don't mind."

She nodded, "she should be asleep as we gave her a sleeping draught. She was very distraught when she was not able to find her captain or have her captain come to her. Please do not wake her Hitsugaya."

"Thank you," he said, there was little else to be said to the Captain; little words that held a wealth of information for her. She had worked just as hard as he had, if not harder, to keep her alive, to fight off all doubters. He was in her debt. He would do as she asked.

The walk to Hinamori's room was one he knew well. He had spent many a night here talking to her, pleading with her, and doing his best to give her what strength he could. He paused down the hallway at the sight of her door. Always there were two guards standing outside her door in case of a change. In the last two years, they had never failed to uphold their duty.

There was no one there.

He paused outside the small room they had moved Hinamori too. Had they taken her somewhere else and Unohana had forgotten to inform him? Had something happened had he just missed the report when he left? He pushed open the door. Something was wrong.

He did not expect what he found.

Isane was wrestling with Hinamori, the smaller, weaker; by all accounts, much more fragile girl had her fellow vice-captain by the hair. Hinamori who had never gotten into hand-to-hand combat with anyone even in her training years had Isane by the hair and was rolling on the floor with her; and for all intents and purposes fully intending to do damage.

She should not have enough energy to even walk across the floor; he knew that, they had discussed that earlier. She should be in bed, being watched over, sleeping. She _should_ have been letting her bodies energies focus solely on resorting her back to health. She was not.

On top of that, there was enough spiritual energy waging war for dominance throughout the room that the whole compound should have been on its feet and preparing for battle. Some of it was Isane's; the majority of it belonged to Hinamori… and someone else. His attention was pulled away from the spiritual energy in the room when Hinamori tossed Isane across the room and then was diving right back after her.

It was impossible.

She had gone mad.

Isane was loosing.

Hinamori turned back to glare at him once in warning, before going back after Isane. His world narrowed. The last time he had seen that look on her face she had been trying to attack Ichimaru Gin. Only then, she had been strong, healthy, fit, and capable of fighting off Kira who had tried to stop her. Now she was weak, tired, and she was putting damaging strain on her overtaxed body. He snapped into action.

He caught her up as carefully as he could before she reached Isane. She twisted in his arms and he just managed to duck under the nails she sent towards his eyes; her ploy worked, however, forcing him to drop her or risk battle impairment. She moved fast then, slamming her smaller body into his knees she took him down to the floor all the while going for his throat.

He reached up and caught her hand before twisting it behind her back and spinning her around on her stomach. He threw his own body weight into her and pinned her to the floor. He was going to end up hurting her if this kept up, Hinamori had never fought like this; much less shown this much aggression and anger towards anyone. He had not known she had this much aggression in her.

What was wrong with her?

She fought like a cat in a bag then. Kicking, screaming, she even tried to turn and bite him when he moved to hold down her legs. He rolled her back over on her back and pinned her down that way. With her throat exposed, she would be in a much more vulnerable position and would, perhaps, settle.

She did.

She glared up at him. Her eyes were wide and blood shot, all black, and they shone with a blind rage and need for battle that he had never seen in Hinamori before; had never expected to see in the naïve vice-captains eyes.

"Hinamori, _what are you doing?"_

She froze. And he watched in surprise when recognition slipped into her eyes and in dismay when tears followed that recognition. He sat up cautiously then, pulling her close when she offered no further resistance. Her head buried in his shoulder and she wailed. It sounded like her world was coming apart at the seems.

That did it. He tugged her unresisting body as close to his as he could. By that time her tears had started in earnest and all he could do was hold her as her body shook and shuddered with the force of the sobs that were rocking through her. This was not grief, he realized while looking around for someone, anyone, to come give him a hand with her. This was an outlet, an outpouring of emotion, just as her rage had been moments before.

There was a slight shuffling noise to the right and Isane sat up. Her movements were stiff and uncoordinated, but she was a girl, and a healer and she could fix this. Before the vice-captain could stand, however, Unohana swept into the room; the captain looked worried, an expression he had not seen from her since the middle of the war. When every bed had been filled and every healer occupied, while more injured kept being brought in.

One glance assessed the situation before she moved to Hinamori. He watched as she placed a long fingered hand on hysterical girl. There was a slight glow about her and then Hinamori went limp in his arms. He never thought he would be so thankful to see her asleep.

"She will sleep now Hitsugaya, if you will be kind enough to place her back in her bed, I will tend to Isane and the others."

He nodded before standing with his bundle and moving towards the bed. Now that they were no longer fighting and she was not threatening to come apart in his arms he realized how tiny she had become. There was nothing to her.

He laid her back on the bed and as he tucked the sheets around her still form as Isane stood to help the other healer from the room. He watched them go, both limping and bruised but otherwise they appeared to be all right. He turned back to Unohana. "I think perhaps, for now, we should repress her ability to use the demon arts." He didn't know if two years of pent up anger had fuelled her natural ability to use the arts to such an extreme or if it had been the rage he had seen that had allowed her to push past her bodies limits and go after them. There was not enough information for him to find answers, and until Hinamori could be questioned, in the morning under guard, there was no way for any of them to know.

Unohana watched him for a moment before nodding. "I agree." That worried him. He knew he was right, but Unohana hated putting anyone under restrictions such as those. He turned back to Hinamori. Her face was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced than they had been. Dark bruises were forming on her arms, and a few on her neck from Isane defending herself, he guessed. The ones on her arms were from him, his eyes closed in pain. They had both done their best to prevent injury but she had used all her resources to fight them, and her already taxed body was far too fragile for the punishment she had just inflicted on it, but for what reason?

"Do you know what set her off?" he questioned.

"I was told she asked about Aizen and one of the lower division members told her that he was dead."

His flew open, Aizen again…

"I think a regular rotation of guards will be needed. I am sure she wore out whatever energy she had, but we cannot take the chance of her injuring herself further. Precautions should be taken."

"How was this possible?"

She hesitated, "I don't know. By all accounts it should have been impossible but no one knows what she saw or what she went through for the last two years. It may well be that her mind has yet to register what kind of shape her body is in. Or she was able to draw on all her pent up magic, she was always very adept at the demon arts," a gentle shrug of her shoulders, "I don't know, Hitsugaya."

"How far will this set her recovery back?"

"I will know tomorrow."

He nodded. "I will work out a rotation for my men. As of right now, she is a member of the tenth division. Each day and night one member of the tenth division shall join the fourth in guarding her." '_Even if it must be from herself…'_

"Thank you," she said, "I am sure Zaraki will offer his men as well."

He nodded. "I will inform him if I need his assistance."

She hesitated. "Would you like a sleeping draught?"

It was a kind offer. To let him sleep without the sight of her rage, her throwing Isane across the room, of having to once again, fight her in order to protect her from herself, flashing across his eyelids. He turned and looked at her with regret, an offer that he could not accept.

"No," his tone was soft as he turned back towards Hinamori, "I am taking the first shift in watching over her. Let your division get some rest, she will need them tomorrow."

Unohana nodded, "I will send someone in to clean up the mess," she swept her hand towards all the broken class and furniture, towards all the damage that Hinamori had caused, "and someone with something for your bruises and cuts." Cuts and bruises he couldn't remember her inflicting.

He nodded, before pulling the chair out from the corner of the room. Besides the bed, the only thing that Hinamori had not destroyed, he settled into it and turned towards her. While hoping to fall into the familiar pattern of watching her breath, only this time, he realized, there would be no peace.

'_What is going on Hinamori?'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author**: Davan  
**Story**: Awakenings  
**Chapter**: Three

**Author Notes**: Nelia-chan and Kaori thank you so much for your wonderful comments!

Lleaves I want to respond to your comments _badly_. You have no idea. Thank you again for your wonderful thoughts and comments; I bow to your mad reviewing skills!

School has started and that means 15 hours of art classes. I apologize for how long it took me to get this out but being an art major means a _lot_ of out of class projects.

Also, my beta is studying like a mad thing for the SAT's, so she has not had time to go over this chapter. I apologize beforehand for any mistakes. I did my best.

**I do not own Bleach!**

_Chapter Three_

It had been five days since Hinamori had woken from her coma, and four days since he had been allowed into the fourth division to see her. Unohana had made it clear that for now, her mind needed to adjust to all the changes that had been given to her so suddenly.

He understood that, he even understood Unohana's hesitation to have him guard her in the night while she was sleeping. What he no longer understood was Hinamori. The reports that he had been getting from Matsumoto and his other division members on guard, had him worried for her. It was something he was starting to become used to, the continual nagging in the pit of his stomach was almost second nature to him now.

He shifted aside his daily paperwork and brought out the reports that his division and Unohana had been sending him. The front page was lined with his and Matsumoto's neat script cataloging the different points of the reports.

Physically she was doing better. The last report had been two days ago and according to it she was up, walking, and able to stay up for more than a few minutes at a time. While she needed help with the basics such as taking a shower, or changing her robes if she was tired she was improving.

Emotionally, mentally, she was still healing. A process they all had known was going to take a while if everything went well. Now that the true extent of her mental status was being uncovered, even Unohana was unsure how things were going to go. Right now, Hinamori believed that they were all lying to her and that Aizen still walked in Soul Society. She had even gone as far as to accuse them of locking her away so that she could not get to her captain. She never asked why he had yet to come and see her or why he had not tried to contact her. That above all else frightened him. And if it had not been for the continual reports he would have rushed down there to see her and demanded entrance.

He was her guardian so to speak and it was within his rights. None of the other captains had jurisdiction, even Unohana. Now that she was awake, she was officially transferred into his division instead of just being the one to make any final decisions; she was truly under his protection and supervision. And even Unohana could not override a direct command from him when it came to her health. As her captain, he could demand the right to see her, to make his own analysis of her state.

But it all came down to respect and trust. He respected the fourth division, and he trusted Unohana. She had asked him to stay away until they felt that Hinamori was ready to see him again, until they knew it would not cause another break down for the girl. So he was abiding by her request, he did not know how much longer his patience would hold.

Matsumoto had seen her several times and her reports did more to help his fraying nerves than anything else did. Reports that stated that Hinamori seemed to be doing better physically, that the fits that would rock her small frame the first several days had slowed. Physically, his vice-captain assured him, she was doing far better than she had. Her death god ability to heal quickly was coming to the fore. And while this would sooth the torment, it did nothing to calm his worry.

Ukitate had stopped by a few times to ask him if he would like to spare with him and Captain Shunsui. If they asked again he would accept.

There was an abrupt knock on his office door and he looked up. Matsumoto was not due for the next hour and he had already received the normal morning allotment of paperwork. One brow rose in question when Renji walked through the door. The redheaded captain's eyes were narrowed a sure sign that he was thinking, or annoyed with someone, giving the expression he figured that someone was him. "Can I help you with something, Renji?"

"Do you know what is going on with Hinamori?" It was a little less subtle than what he had expected out of the captain but at least it explained what he was doing there.

He motioned for him to have a seat, "yes, why?"

He threw up his hands, "thank you," he exploded, and Hitsugaya narrowed his eyes at the man, that to was unexpected. Renji grabbed Matsumoto's chair and brought it to sit in front of Hitsugaya's desk. "All that Kira or I have been able to figure out is that she is awake, nothing else, and we are worried about her."

Hitsugaya felt something cold settle in the pit of his stomach at the mention of Kira. No matter how many times someone told him that Kira had been a tool used by Gin and Aizen, he had been the one to warn him about Hinamori and he had been apart of their scheme. _He_ had led him away from Hinamori when he might have been able to reveal Aizen without her being injured, might have been able to prevent the last two years. "I would rather Kira not be told any of the particulars of Hinamori's condition."

Renji paused, and his eyes narrowed further. "You think Kira would go back after Hinamori?" It wasn't a question.

"I don't know what Kira would do but as of right now, until Hinamori is in a much more stable condition I do not want him anywhere near her. Nor do I want him to know what is going on. Unohana is keeping all the information pertaining to Hinamori under a tight lid and seal and I am going to do the same. If you want information, I can give it to you, because Hinamori always spoke fondly of you and because you were in the same year as her. But you must give me your word that it will not move past you."

Renji watched him carefully for several moments and sighed, "Kira was in the same group with Hinamori and me, Hitsugaya. Whatever happened between him and you that day has nothing to do with how he feels about Hinamori."

"I know that." But that that did not mean he had to trust the man, even two years later the betrayal was fresh on his mind and the blond haired vice-captain had done nothing to make him forget.

"And you know that there has been no sign that _any_ of Aizen's conspirators have been detected here in soul society. Kira was long ago cleared of any wrong doing, he was as mislead as the rest of us."

Hitsugaya leaned back in his chair and stared at his fellow captain. He did not particularly like the patronizing tone from his fellow Captain, nor did he intend to give Renji anything unless he first agreed to his terms. This was no longer just about him. He would keep Hinamori safe, whether she wanted his help or not.

Renji stared back before sighing, "Fine I won't discuss any of this with Kira." He held up his hand to forestall any words, "nor will I discuss this with anyone else," he gave a sheepish smile, "Rukia is not even aware she has woken yet, she has been in the real world with Ichigo."

He nodded, that was good enough for him. Though he knew, it would cost the redheaded captain not to speak of these things to Rukia when she returned. "Hinamori has recovered physically from Aizen's attack. Right now she is very weak and easily wears herself out." Renji nodded.

"That is to be expected with her in the coma for two years." He sat forward and watched him with eyes that saw more than Hitsugaya would have given him two days ago. Hitsugaya stared back, un-intimidated by the man. He had always given Renji a certain amount of respect, he was hot headed, brutal in a fight, but he was also charismatic, outgoing, and like Ichigo, he had the uncanny ability to draw those he needed to him. He also protected those he cared about with every ounce of strength he possessed.

And while he had not always associated the man with a high level of intelligence, the war had shown him many things about Abarai Renji. And he had gained a new level of respect for his ability's as a Captain, and the bright spark of wisdom that was shinning in his dark eyes caught him off guard. He would not have expected him to show such a strong need to understand what was going on with Hinamori.

"As of right now, she does not remember the attack or any of the events that were prior to the attack." He continued

"She thinks Aizen is still alive doesn't she?"

It took every ounce of self-control that he owned to keep his face neutral. "Yes," he agreed.

Renji sat back in the chair his look concerned, "is there anything I can do help?" he questioned.

One brow rose, "I didn't realize that you were that good of friends." And he had not. Hinamori had always spoken fondly of him, he had spoken true but he had always assumed that was because they were vice-captains together had had been classmates.

Renji shook his head, "Hinamori has always been special to all of us you know. She always did her best to look after us when we were vice-captain with her. Always like a little mother hen." He shrugged, "you should let us return the favor, Hitsugaya." There was no censure in his voice but Hitsugaya wondered if Renji was aware of the frustration that seemed to roll off him in waves.

He hesitated, "For now I would rather keep things as they are." He waved off Renji, "_but_," he said quickly to forestall the protest he could see gathering in the hot-tempered man's eyes. "Both Unohana and I have discussed the possibility of bringing in some extra men once Hinamori starts to show improvement. When that happens I will contact you, does that suit you?"

"Is that the best I am going to get out of you?"

"Yes."

"Then I will take your offer." He hesitated, "don't be afraid to ask us for help just because you want to take everything on by yourself, Hitsugaya. We all love her to."

He nodded, '_but can you keep her safe?' _"Is that all?"

Renji stood, "yes, though if you need to vent some frustration, Ukitate wants me to deliver his offer of a spar, and if you need a bigger target he wanted to let you know Ichigo would be available as well," he offered a weak smile and Hitsugaya shook his head. The last thing he needed was for the blond death god to show up and start yelling at him to get his butt outside and fight him.

"Thank Ukitate for me, and Ichigo won't be necessary."

Renji nodded, he was almost out the door before he turned back around, "We are worried about you as well Hitsugaya, don't hesitate to ask any of us for assistance." He said and then he was out the door before he could give his response.

Hitsugaya shook his head and wondered how many other captains were going to come in and offer their aid? As it was, Shunsui had come by, Ukitate he had expected, but Zaraki and then Renji had both been a decided shock. He was not at all appreciative to that. He was sure that he could count on Byakuya to keep his distance and if Mayuri offered to experiment on her, he would do more than throw the man out of his office.

As it was that was a battle Unohana had taken on early on when it had become clear that Hinamori was in more than just a simple coma. The man had been trying to get permission to experiment on her when Unohana had caught wind of it. To this day Mayuri steered clear of the fourth division's captain.

"I bet that was interesting," Matsumoto said walking into the office; one brow was quirked in what he found an amusing copy of his own mannerisms. He wondered if she knew she did that.

"Not really."

She shook her head. "Kira was asking me how Hinamori is faring," she said hesitantly. She was not quite sure how he felt about Kira knowing her condition or not. He had already given out orders that no one was to speak of Hinamori's condition to anyone. He was her captain so his word was law but even then, it _was_ Kira. And Hitsugaya, she knew, still carried a torch of anger for the man. Yet, he was her captain and she trusted him. That was enough.

"What did he want to know?"

She settled into the chair that Renji had vacated. "Normal things, how she was doing, if her condition had changed, things like that."

He felt the chill of anger slide through him, again. "What did you tell him?"

"The basics, Unohana was keeping a tight lid on everything and that I didn't have permission to speak of such things," clever of her to come up with an answer that he could not refute.

"Thank you Matsumoto," she smiled and dropped some papers on his desk. "She also sent these and said that were free to come by this evening if you wanted to."

She stood and stretched, "I am going to get some lunch now that I have reported, are you going to take a break or shall I bring you something."

He looked at the stacks of paperwork that littered his desk, if he was going to make it to see Hinamori that evening he was going to need to stay and work. "A sandwich would be nice."

She nodded. "Of course, don't work to hard; I will be back in about an hour."

He waved his hand in a dismissing motion and once she was out the door he opened the file that Unohana had sent with Matsumoto. He read quietly for several minutes before carefully closing the file and placing it in a drawer.

He stood and headed out the door, he would need to find Matsumoto; his plans had changed.

It had taken him longer than he had anticipated to find his wayward vice-captain. It had been accomplished however. A few quick words and her acceptance was all he had needed before he had been off to talk to Captain Unohana.

She was waiting for him.

"What do you mean she is not eating?" his voice was quite but even he could not hide the simmering anger that had slowly been building since he had received her report. What was Hinamori trying to do to him?

"She stopped eating two day ago, Captain Hitsugaya," her tone was calm but her eyes held hidden shadows that brought him no sense of comfort.

"Why?" That was the one thing that her report had not contained and he was determined to find out. There had to be a reason, something Hinamori found completely logical. There had to be a reason she was putting him through this.

She shook her head, "it might be part of the trauma, it might be that is her way of slipping back into her dreams, we don't know, and she doesn't wish to tell us."

He nodded. "When does she eat lunch?"

"Her lunch would have been taken to her right about now." Unohana's answer was hesitant but she did not refute his silent claim. "Be gentle with her, Captain," she said.

He nodded once. "Thank you," he turned and walked out of her office. He could understand her warning but anger was bubbling beneath his calm surface. Four days of frustration and anger were pushing him forward.

She would not do this to him. She could hate him for this; she could throw things at him and call him every name in the book. But until she had time to physically recover and push past the anger and despair that he knew were controlling her world. Until she could make the decision herself and be trusted to make that decision with the proper frame of mind, she would not leave this world just yet; would not leave him to mourn her passing, _again._

He nodded to the guards outside her door. Isane would know why he was here and would send food. He walked in. She did not bother to look up at the sound of the door opening, just continued to stare out the window and he felt something churn in his stomach when he saw the expression on her face. He had seen it before.

Only then, it had been his expression staring back at him.

He forced a calm he did not feel to the surface. "Hinamori?" he questioned, doing his best to keep his tone gentle. He was not entirely sure it worked, his voice ringing with the ice that was doing its best to combat the fury roaring through his veins.

She turned to look at him. He forced his body to remain still. She looked lost. "Am I imagining things again?" He could not stop the brow that rose in question at her comment. She sighed and he watched as she drew a small shape on the window where her breath had formed fog. "Why aren't you dead?"

Again, she ripped through his world with a few simple words. He should have expected that. Should have known that would be what she would want to know from him. He forced himself to breath evenly. "May I sit?" he questioned, motioning towards the chair that faced her bed. She looked surprised for a moment, before nodding. "What do you remember?" he questioned.

A puzzled expression slide across her eyes, before she turned and faced him, "I remember that it was all red," she said, "and that you were on the ground and that there was too much blood. I remember watching you take your last breath and I remember someone screaming," she sighed. "I think I was screaming," her voice took on a distant quality, and he felt something run down his spin. "And then everything goes black. So tell me, how are you alive?" Her gaze sharpened again as she focused on him, the other worldly quality to her voice fading.

"When I have been in danger of dying, Hinamori, you have not been there to see." He said slowly, carefully, gauging each word before he spoke. It would do neither him nor her any good to send her rushing back into the depths of her dreams with a careless word or action.

One brow rose gracefully. He felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Hinamori had never in all their years together, ever mimicked, copied, or had a movement that resembled his own brand of wordless sarcasm. It had never been in her nature. The one time she had tried to mock his movements Matsumoto had ended up in a torrent of giggles and he had been amused enough to smile.

But this was something else entirely. And that worried him. It could mean many things but she was speaking and he had no time to analyze her movements. "I thought you would say that."

That caught him off guard. "What do you mean?" He inwardly cursed himself when a bitter smile slid across her face.

"Everyone is trying to keep me away from Captain Aizen. I am not sure exactly how you are keeping him from me but it will not work forever, _captain_." Anger was coloring her words now and the way she spat his title sent his temper back to the surface.

"And what if Aizen is not ever going to be able to come to you?" he questioned softly. He would not let her receive the brunt of his anger, she was not aware of the buttons she was pushing or the way she was ripping through his emotional shields as if they longer existed.

The look she sent him was nothing short of scathing, "impossible."

Before he could answer her, the door opened and a young woman came in. In her hands was a food tray, she glanced warily at Hinamori before settling it down on the table and then just as quietly disappearing outside.

Hinamori frowned, "why did she bring me lunch?"

"Its lunch time," he said, still trying to gain control of the ice and fire that were raging for dominance he could not spare her a long explanation. Apparently, that was not good enough for her.

"I told them I no longer wished for my meals until Aizen came to see me," her frown deepened. Her eyes slipped across the room and back towards him, she blinked.

"And why is that?" his voice had changed from soft and gentle, to something else. He was loosing the battle. She flinched at the sound. Her lips slid shut and she glared at him.

"That is none of your business." Cold, toneless, emotionless, he did not like this new side to her

"I think it is." He said agreeably.

She frowned and stood her eyes flashing with desperation, "Because you're hiding my captain from me." She said softly. "And I will find a way to get back to him." Aizen, he realized bitterly, everything _still_ revolved around the traitor. Would he ever escape the man's shadow?

"So you think Aizen would want you to starve yourself?" he was lashing out now but if she could use Aizen as her shield than he would use him to break it down.

"_Do not_ _pretend you know him!" _she screamed, a shrill sound and he froze.

His eyes narrowed and he felt the chill that was his soul slayer slide through him, containing the anger that flared up so strongly it was a wonder she couldn't taste it in the air. Ice wrapped around him, and it was all he could do to breath. She did not know what those words would do to him, did not understand the anger, the rage, and the cold mercilessness that only Aizen could bring forth.

She was about to learn.

"You will eat your lunch Hinamori." His voice was soft. He was the ice now. It was creeping through him, holding his more volatile emotions in check. Keeping the raw emotion down where it could not reach out and damage whatever remained of their friendship. He knew she saw it when her chin went up as she glared back.

"I will not." Her tones were rigid and harsh against his ears.

One brow rose before his lips quirked up. "Is that so?" It was not a pleasant expression. His division would scramble and move out of his way that expression slide across his face in practice. She was no different, taking a step back and he moved forward to counter her. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way Hinamori."

She shook her head. "You can not force me to do anything."

"If I have to, I will. For every step he took forward, she moved back. "We have waited to long and worked to hard to bring you back to us, Hinamori." Her eyes went wide when she hit the wall. "And so I am going to give you a choice," he stopped just out of touching distance, letting her have her space. It would be important to her here. "You can eat without my intervention, or I can feed you." Her lips parted in surprise, "It's your choice."

They stared at each other, neither willing to back down, a battle of wills that he was determined to win. Her eyes softened, the hard look of cold fury easing out of them. "All right," she said softly. "I will eat." He did not like the almost desolate expression that replaced her anger. She turned from him quickly and he wondered if she would forgive him for this.

He nodded and moved carefully out of her way. She slid past him on silent feet and sat at the table. Her expression was anything but happy but when he settled in the chair next to her, she picked up her spoon. "I can eat without being watched." She said softly.

He motioned to the sandwich on the plate, "I believe they sent me lunch as well." He forced himself to speak lightly, as he would during the times before the war, and ignore the way her hand shook as she held the spoon. His eyes closed briefly at that, she had done herself no good in her refusal to eat.

"Oh," her voice was hesitant and he watched her until she sipped a spoonful of the liquid, her hand was shaking quite badly and he wondered how she was able to hold it up. The look she sent him was a quiet warning and he forced himself to concentrate on his own food.

It would take her body sometime to recover to the point where she would be able to eat normally. Not only did they need to help her recover her strength but she could not hold full meals, having gone so long without anything but the nutrients they had feed her while in her coma. For now, they were feeding her broth and would gradually move her body forward in meals. Otherwise, they could risk overloading her system and making her sick. Something none of them wanted.

"Why has Aizen not come to see me yet?" she questioned in between spoonfuls, her voice was soft and hesitant and he wondered how much it had taken out of her to ask that.

His stomach clenched at the question, one he should have expected. "That is not a subject I am allowed to discuss."

Her brows slide into a v shape. "Why?"

"You will have to ask Unohana," he said. It was the coward's way out but he did not intend to tell her that her Captain had stabbed her, started a war to destroy soul society, or that he was now dead. Unohana had told him she was not ready for that information and he would follow her wishes. It also gave him the excuse he needed to keep from speaking of it to her.

She nodded and they ate in silence until she laid her spoon on the table, her expression pained. "I don't feel so well," she admitted, her tone was far too soft for his liking but the almost green expression on her face told him what she would not. She had overtaxed herself. Guilt slide through him; it was partially his fault.

He stood and helped her to stand. "Then you have eaten more than enough," he glanced at the bowl that was only around half empty. "Into bed with you," he said gently while helping her across the room and back into her bed. Her hands were shaking still and her tough was as light as she could make it while he helped her across the room. He was to busy concentrating on how light she still was to really notice. Her body had reabsorbed any progress she had made during her rebellion. It broke his heart. "I will send Unohana in to check on you." He said while helping her pull the covers up to her chin.

She nodded before rolling away from him. He watched her a moment longer before turning and walking out the door. Isane was waiting for him.

"Did you get her to eat?" she questioned, her expression was worried and her eyes darkened further when she got a good look at him

He nodded. "She feels ill now, if you would check on her," he had no time for formalities; he was too wrung out, to emotionally spent to spare her any thoughts.

"Of course," she moved into the room. He nodded to Unohana who was moving across the room before turning and walking out. She would want to talk to him later but right now he needed the solace of his office and the quite that Matsumoto would provide him with if he requested it.

And he sorely needed it.

The walk to his office was quite, most of the divisions were out patrolling or cleaning and the few people he came upon simple moved out of his way. Matsumoto was waiting for him and there was a cup of tea sitting on his desk, he quirked a brow up at her.

She smiled. "I figured you would need something after going to the fourth division," she explained, "though by the look of things I should have gotten you something far stronger."

He shook his head and settled at his desk, "thank you," he said before taking a ginger sip of the tea. It was good, which meant someone other than Matsumoto had brewed it. For all her skills and abilities, the woman had only ever been able to brew bitter tea.

"How is Hinamori?"

Trust his vice-captain to be the one who would want to make him talk. He sipped on the hot tea to give himself time to think on how he was going to answer her. He watched as she moved the chair across the room and sat in the same position as she and Renji had earlier. Apparently, she wanted to have a 'talk'.

She crossed her arms across her chest and waited. He sighed. Matsumoto above all others had the right to know what he had found out. She had and he long ago crossed the threshold of simple Captain and Vice-Captain, they were friends. And while there was a time and a place for everything, she seemed to be able to draw that line with ease. She was also the one who had pored over the reports with him and her own copies notes and questions for the healers. She was his second and even now and emotionally worn and exhausted as he was, he would talk to her. She had earned that respect.

"She was refusing to eat," he finally said. Her brows creased in worry and she frowned.

"Why?"

"From what she said?" at his vice-captains nod he continued, "she thinks were keeping Aizen from her and the only way to get him to come and see is to force us to let him in by not eating."

Matsumoto's eyes widened and then her expression narrowed in thought. "So this is far worse than we thought?"

He nodded. "She is far too weak," his eyes darkened at the memory of her small frame shaking as she forced herself to walk to the bed, to stubborn and distrustful to ask him to carry her.

"She is fighting a battle, Captain," she said and offered him a slight smile. "With her body and her mind, it will take time but things will get better. You have to give her the time she needs to recover, to move on. She doesn't even know her former captain is dead yet. She needs time."

He nodded and sat back further in his chair taking another drink of the tea. He felt old, old and worn out. And he dreaded the day they told her Aizen was dead. Dreaded her reaction, her anger, and her pain; he was not sure he could handle any of it. Not if he every encounter was a mental and emotional battle, where his carefully hidden emotions fought so hard to be brought to the surface. His fingers splayed over the hilt of his sword, even Hyourinmaru was quite.

"Maybe you're looking at this wrong way." Matsumoto said. Her tone was soft and he quirked a brow up at her in question, to tired to give her much of anything else.

"What do you mean?"

"Hinamori has spent the last several decades in complete control of her life. She was a vice-captain so she only had to follow her Captains orders, everyone else in her division followed hers," she said carefully. "She was respected and well ordered in everything she did."

"You think she is trying to gain control?" He sat up. That made sense.

"She _is_ upset about Aizen, she adored the man, but you can't ignore that she is also completely out of control. She is no longer a vice-captain, locked in a hospital room, and doesn't have the energy to do anything without assistance." Matsumoto shrugged, "Anyone in that position would feel out of their element."

Hitsugaya felt his brows narrow in thought. Matsumoto was probably on to something there. Hinamori had left when they were younger to take control of her life, to do something good. But he had always been under the assumption that she needed the control and rules that the Death Gods seemed to project. He had scoffed at their ways but she had embraced them.

That would at least explain some things.

If that was so they were going to need to find a way to give her the illusion of control until she was physically and mentally able to live on her own again. He sighed; he was going to need to talk to Unohana.

He glanced at the clock. It had taken him longer than he had thought to convince Hinamori to eat and it was now well into the afternoon. He motioned to the paperwork on his desk. "We need to finish this," he said, "and then you're free to go."

She nodded and grabbed a pen out of the cup he kept them in before turning a stack around. He shook his head in amusement before turning to his own paperwork. Matsumoto was the only vice-captain he knew that would work at her captain's desk when she was concerned about something. Thankfully, the desk was large enough to accommodate both of them or he would have been forced to send her to her own desk.

They worked quietly for several hours, few words spoken between them. It was a comforting silence and he kept an eye on his vice-captain and was glad to see her shoulder relax and the tension that had built through their previous conversation ease out of her. Paperwork was boring but it did serve its purposes.

It was almost dark when they heard sound of footsteps running down the pathway towards his office. He and Matsumoto exchanged glances before she was moving out the way. The door slammed open and they both jerked in surprise at the sight of a disheveled Hanatarou.

"Is everything all right?" he questioned while the small healer gasped for breath. He looked up and Hitsugaya frowned at the expression on his face. Worry, guilt, and something else he couldn't put his fingers on.

"Hinamori is missing Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Unohana sent me," he barely had time to finish his words before Hitsugaya was up and moving.

"Matsumoto," he said, already halfway out the door.

"Right behind you," she said motioning Hanatarou out the door and then running to catch up with him.

_What had she done now?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author:** Davan  
**Story:** Awakenings  
**Chapter: **Four

**AN:** Okay I did my best again on typos. So again, my apologies. I will be sending an email to my beta to see how everything went and if she is up and ready to go this week. I also did my best to not make this chapter sappy, but I am afraid there is some sap. I apologize.

Enjoy. Comment. And thank you for reading!

To all of you have reviewed THANK you so much!

Ukitate was waiting for him. Lightening flashed in the distance illuminating his fellow Captain and he was not sure it wasn't the sparks of his own anger that was feeding the rapidly growing storm. There was another flash of brilliant light and then the street lights were lighting along the corridors and pathways in a half hearted attempt to push past the gloom.

"Each Division is searching through their quarters." Ukitate's voice was calm. "And Byakuya is patrolling the outside limits in case she went there."

A good solid plan that eased some of the tension in the back of his neck, that meant that Unohana had sounded the alarm. It was standard protocol when someone went missing from the fourth division. Especially patients who were under watch because of illness or injury, upon the discovery of Hinamori's disappearance Unohana would have been quick to sound the alarm. But that was not his main concern.

He could not sense her at all. Not even an iota of her spirit energy; but where was she getting the strength to hide her spirit energy from them? Spirit energy that should have already led them to her as surely as a beckon of light in the dark would have.

He nodded his thanks to the older captain, "Matsumoto," he turned back to his vice-captain. "Go join our division." She nodded once before turning back towards their division. He did not believe she would have gone there but he would need the reassurance that someone he could trust was ensuring that she would not easily slip through any cracks in their division.

He turned back to Ukitate once she was out of sight. "I can't sense her." He knew frustration and worry were coming off him in waves but he had no desire to curb it.

"Neither can we," the tall man fell into step with him as they strolled side by side their long legs eating away the ground, "though you need to stop this," he motioned towards the clouds that were trembling with thunder and lightening, "if were going to have any chance of finding her before the storm breaks."

He frowned and let his hand slide to his sword, his eyes narrowed in concentration before he shook his head. "My anger might have been the spark to ignite it Ukitate, but this one is not mine."

Ukitate sighed, before shading his eyes against he flashes of light and looking up, "Is there any chance you might be able to hold it off?"

Hitsugaya shook his head, "Hyourinmaru does not operate that way. It draws strength from the air, can manipulate it and form storms for attack but when a natural storm like this starts it has to run its course. That is the law of nature. The best I can do is pit my will against it and hope to delay it, but even then there is no guarantee I can hold it off."

"Shunsui believes that we are not able to sense her because right now she does not have any spirit energy, Hitsugaya." Ukitate's words were soft.

Hitsugaya closed his eyes, before nodding. That made sense; Hinamori might have been able to elude them at full strength but not for long and even then not completely from the older souls. If no one was able to find her, it could very well mean she had nothing to give to hide her presence. That also meant that she had to be completely wiped out, with nothing left of her spiritual energy. Physically it would be a marvel that she was moving.

"We will need to let the other captains know to keep a leach on there energy." Thunder rumbled over his head, an anonymous warning for the storm that was coming. His footsteps quickened, they needed to find her. But where would she go?

"Isane is sending out messages as fast as she can find everyone," Ukitate said, "we agreed a public message would destroy our advantage of surprise."

"Does Unohana know how long she has been missing?" he would not wonder why he had not been told immediately.

"No," Ukitate shook his head, "she had already been taken her food for the evening and checked on once. She had an hour window in between check-ups to sneak out and find her way to wherever she was going."

"How did she get out?"

"Another question we wished we had the answer to."

_An hour_, he could feel the muscles in his stomach clenching. A cold breeze kicked up in warning that the storm was fast approaching. "I will see what I can find," he said as the edges of his captain cloak flared around him and lightning flashed in the distance.

Ukitate nodded. "I will join the hunt as well. There are several places that she used to visit when in thought that I know of. I will start there."

Hitsugaya nodded in return. "Send word if you find her." He did not wait for the older captain to answer before he was moving. He took to the roof tops; he would do as Ukitate was doing. Hinamori had many places and hiding sports in the city and was a well-known genius at finding her way around without getting lost. She had spent so many of her younger years running around after the other trainees that she had discovered all the shortcuts and private places for thought.

It meant that finding her now would be twice as difficult. Even in her current physical condition. He picked up his speed, he had to much ground to cover and not enough time. Each flash of lightening and each bolt of thunder told an ominous story that promised a dramatic ending. He was risking missing her as he moved off the rooftops but it was a risk that he was going to have to take. He had to much ground to cover and not enough time to do so.

He was not sure how many secret places he had discovered in his search for her or how many men and women had seen him flitting back and forth. He had run into Matsumoto once or twice and none of the girls that had spent time with her before the attack had seen her in any their meeting places. She was on none of the rooftops she would watch the stars from, nor was she in any of the gardens that she had hidden in when she had needed time to think.

In short every avenue that might have previously yielded results left him with nothing.

Frustration was fast forming a fuse that was itching to blow. The storm was building in its intensity and promising to be a gully washer of immense proportions. He knew his own anger was fueling the fury of the weather but there was little he could do to stop it. He was using every bit of skill he had ever gained with Hyourinmaru to slow the building of the storm as it was. He had spoken truly to Ukitate, this was not his gift and in the end nature was going to run its course. All he could do was hold and pray he had enough time to find her; that what skill he had gained would be enough.

The wind shifted abruptly and it brought the unmistakable scent of rain and power. He closed his eyes; they had been hunting for the better part of the last hour. If Hinamori was still on her feet, she was going to have worn herself out. He closed his eyes, _where was she hiding_?

He froze, his eyes searching the horizon. He closed his eyes and frowned. He could still see the expression on her face when she demanded to know why they were keeping her captain from her.

He had misjudged her again.

_He was a fool. _

He darted back across the rooftops and towards the fifth division. Renji would have been in his office when the alarm had been sounded but he doubted the red headed man would have returned to check there. Hinamori would have gone to the one place she would have expected to find her captain at this hour of the day, where she could have every questioned answered. The last place anyone would have thought to look at past a preliminary check.

But what would she have done when she saw that all of Aizen's personal artifacts had been removed and replaced by someone else's? When she saw the reports and documents that called Renji the captain of the fifth division, a title once held by the man she had held high above all others?

He barely registered the first fat rain drops that were sliding from the clouds and onto the earth or the shouts and warnings from those below him who were now desperately seeking shelter before the storm broke completely. All he could see was Hinamori, the hurt, the pain, anger, and the confusion that had to have met her when she realized that Aizen was no longer there.

That something else had happened that she would no longer remember. The sinking feeling in his stomach told him he was would be too late to save her the realization. Too late, to spare her the pain that could and most likely would crumble her world for a second time.

The door to Renji's rooms was open and he slid under the rooftop just as the rain started streaming down behind him. He pushed the door open softly not wanting to startle her if she remained inside. There was a soft muffled noise in one of the corners and he shifted on his feet in order to better face it. What he saw threatened to break his heart.

Hinamori was curled up in a corner her face buried in one of her arms and her body was shaking; there were stacks of papers surrounding her. He moved across the floor quietly, all the while understanding punching him in the gut. Because Renji had been the one to move Aizen's things, he had been required to keep exact detail of what was done to dispose of his personal artifacts and what had been given to the twelfth division for study. There would also have been a paper giving him captainship over the division and would explain what his duties would be to replace Aizen's once he was found guilty of being a traitor. It would not have taken her long to understand what had happened once she read those papers.

And it didn't take him long to understand her reaction.

During her time in the fourth division she had convinced herself that Aizen was simply unable to come to her. Somewhere deep down there might have been doubt or confusion but she would have pushed those thoughts aside and scolded herself for being unfaithful to her Captain. She was after all, devoted to him and to the world she had pledged herself to.

He moved across the room with soft steps. She did not hear him to caught up in the betrayal that had just rocked the very foundation of her beliefs. Her first glimpse of a Captain had been Aizen; he had rescued her from hollows on her first mission and told her she would make a great death god. Had congratulated her for the smallest accomplishment and treated her with a gentle affection that had done wonders for her confidence and journey through their world. He had_ been_ her world, what she had lived for during her time as a Death God, who every little motion and action had been for.

That belief, the knowledge that as long as she did her duties for him, everything would be okay; that he would always be there to lend her his strength, wisdom, and gentle kindness that had endured her to him so strongly, was gone. Shattered by a mad mans dreams of infinite power and domination.

And now she knew. Knew that she had been betrayed so deeply that even the history books would call it such; 'the great betrayal, by the great deceiver.' It was more than just destroying her hope or her faith in their world and her own abilities; he had taken more than just her heart and shattered it. Everything would be lost to her now, every step would remind her of him and every breath would take her to a place that he could not follow. If Aizen had accomplished anything, it was this; either Hinamori would return to him or she would be lost.

But he had long ago learned that the world revolved around your own strength of will, what steps you took, and how badly you wanted something. He would not loose her to this, he settled down next to her, her body shaking so harshly that he was certain that she would shake herself apart. He would not loose her to a mad man's beacon. To his sirens call for more death and destruction.

If she was going to fall, he _would_ catch her.

He pulled her close and arranged her carefully in his lap, certain that anything more than the lightest of touches would shatter her. It was a testament to her grief when she did not seem to register the fact that she had been moved. Her fingers curls into his cloak, her head buried in his shoulder, and she wailed.

It was the cry of despair; of a broken heart and shattered soul. The cry of someone who finally understood the enormity of what they had become and what they had lost.

It broke his heart.

He crooned down at her softly, not entirely sure of what he could do to ease her pain but determined to do something. The women in his division had broken down in front of him more than once and in his own way he had done his best to calm their tears. Either gruff words or questions would do the trick or they were sent to Matsumoto until they were in control of their emotions.

But this was different. This was Hinamori, he would not give her sarcasm and indifference and order her to pull herself together or make her think beyond her own pain; this was the woman he wanted to hold, to cherish, and comfort.

He could not make this pain leave her. To make her understand that it would be all right and that the ache of betrayal would fade and eventually longer threaten to tear her apart. That the failure of not seeing what was right before her would only make her stronger and ensure that it would not happen again, that _he_ would not let happen again. Right now, they would just be words, words that would mean nothing to her.

He had never felt so helpless; so useless. Not even when he had seen her blood running and sightless eyes as Aizen revealed his mater plan, had he felt this.

He tightened his hold when her sobs increased and he was worried that she was going to break her small frame apart, each sob, shudder, and helpless wail that emitted from her throat shattered another piece of him. He had never seen someone so heart sore that their body shook, so upset that they could no longer register where they were or if they were alone, could not feel physical touch. He had never seen a grief so strong that he could feel their pain halfway across the room and it was almost a type of illness.

He never wanted to see such a thing again. It ripped and tore at him with tangled threads of anger and pain so strong he could feel his own emotions stretch and expand until they to threatened to consume him. He relied on Hyourinmaru to contain it, to hold him steady when he no longer had the strength.

It took some time for her to calm and even then he was certain the only reason that her sobs were easing was that she ran out tears to cry. The hand that he had been using to rub her back in slow circles paused and her hands tightened on his cloak. "All right?" he questioned, keeping his voice as low and soothing as he could while fighting his own reaction to her pain.

She looked up and his heart turned over at the sight of her swollen eyes and red nose. He reached up with gentle fingers and brushed the hair that had caught to her cheeks back behind her ears. She hiccupped softly before burying her face back in his shoulder. At her movements he could feel the tears that had soaked through his cloak and robes and he tucked her closer. She sniffled before sighing softly.

He did not know how long they sat there with her face was buried in his shoulder. Every now and then she would hiccup and then burry herself closer, small shudders moving up and down her frame as she tried to control her ragged breathing. She did not move away from his arms or try to hide her grief, instead she leaned on him. Seemingly pulling every ounce of strength from him that she could; he continued his soft mantra of soothing whispers while his fingers ran gently up and down her spin.

He was as grateful to hold her as she seemed to be held.

Eventually he could feel her gathering her thoughts and then finally she shifted slightly, her nose unburying itself from the crook of his shoulder and neck where she had been hiding.

"Why?" her voice was hoarse and rough and he winced for her.

"I don't know," he said. It was important that he was honest with her now. That he tell her what he knew. If he held back, he risked loosing what little trust she still held for him. What little chance he had to hold her to him. "No one really does, we just know the outcome of his actions."

Another hiccup, another heart-wrenching sniff, "Is he dead?" Her voice was whisper soft and he wondered how hard it was for her to ask him that. He knew how hard it was going to be for him to answer it.

"Yes," a fine shudder rain through her body at his words and he wondered if she was going to start crying again. He would not be able to handle that, the glazed over broken expression on her face was cracking the armor he held so closely to himself. Her tears would shatter him.

"How long?"

"Three months, the war lasted almost two years."

More silence as she collected her thoughts. He jerked slightly at her next question. "Why was I in a coma?"

"Hinamori…" he started.

She sat back, pulling away from his reassuring touches and gestures and bit her bottom lip, "I need to know." That raw, hesitant voice did him in.

He closed his eyes against the sight of her pleading face, "right before the start of the war Aizen played us all like chess pieces." How it hurt to bring the memories of his failure to the front of his mind again, to go through the defeat that had cost him more than his pride, but Hinamori. "During that time, before we understood what was going on, you followed me as I tracked down Aizen's supposed killer." He swallowed, the memory of her broken and bleeding body playing across his eyelids, the cruelest of all his memories. "Aizen was waiting for you, and then he stabbed you. If Unohana had not been close you would not be here today." He opened his eyes to look at her, needed to offer what comfort he could; for both of them.

She swallowed hard and he watched as her eyes dimmed further. "And you?" she questioned. "What happened to you?"

He felt his eyes glaze over and her eyes turned pleading at the familiar look. He wanted to spare her this pain and tuck her away from the world to hide her from everything that would cause her distress. But her eyes were not letting him. Not letting him protect her the way he longed to so desperately. They were pleading with him to tell her what he wished to keep hidden. "I found you," he said finally, "I fought Aizen, and I lost."

"He stabbed you to." She said slowly, her eyes filling with understanding and then tears. He wondered if those tears were for him, her, or her captain. He closed his eyes, he was not foolish enough to believe that she would cry for him, even now hidden behind the tears and the pain there was anger and betrayal. And most of that was directed at him.

He jerked, his eyes flashing open, when her fingers suddenly buried into his robes as she pushed them apart. His eyes went wide with surprise when cool fingers brushed against his skin. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing when he saw the expression on her face. Her eyes were narrowed and when she looked up at him his mouth slid shut and he forced himself to remain still at the look of determination in her eyes; the silent plea to let her be, to let her see.

He watched as she pushed the side of his robes open further and forced his tensing muscles to relax as his robe slide partially of his shoulder to accommodate her. If Hinamori was willing to overcome her shyness to discover what secret he was keeping from her, than he would let her.

She ran her fingers down one side, before turning to the other to find what she was looking for. Her eyes pooled with more tears and she shook her head even as she ran gentle fingers over the scar that still lingered on his skin. It symbolized his defeat, his weakness and his inability to protect what he had always claimed as his; it was his daily reminder of how he had failed and what one mans greed had cost him. It was a scar that was not born lightly and she turned away from him swallowing hard.

He tucked his robes back together before turning her back towards him. She buried her face back in his shoulder, as he fought past his own confusion and pain as fine tremors shook her body again.

He understood her need to have physical proof, to understand what he been sacrificed. He settled his fingers on the back of her neck and winced at how cold she was. "I need to take you back to Unohana, Hinamori," he said gently. She was going to catch some sort of a cold if he did not get her warm and quickly.

She looked up and he felt his expression softening at the look in eyes, the walls he had been throwing up, shifting to accommodate her. He reached up and gently wiped her fresh tears away. "Don't cry for him Hinamori," he said, "he isn't worth it."

"He was my Captain," she swallowed. "I don't understand," helplessness filled her expression and he could not control his need to pull her close and hold her. She did not fight the way his arms tightened around her; she simply buried her nose in his chest to absorb the warmth and comfort that he was offering.

"I know," he said, understanding the meaning in those words and fighting the urge to tell her again that he was not worth her tears, her pain, or grief.

He glanced outside to give him something else to think of and winced at the rain that was still coming down in torrents. Light flashed in a brilliant streak across the sky and he sighed. Even if he used _Shunpo,_ they were both going to be soaked. He looked down and winced, she was starting to shiver, there was nothing for it; he shifted her off his lap and helped her stand with him. He pulled off his Captains cloak and settled it around her. And he felt his lips twitch at the picture she painted. She didn't notice as she leaned back against him, to physically and emotionally worn to do anything but maintain her balance. Even then she was swaying.

"It will be faster if I carry you," he hesitated, "can you handle _Shunpo_ right now?" She averted her gaze and shrugged.

"I don't know." Her voice was whisper soft.

"Give me some sort of a signal if it's to much a strain for you," he told her softly and she nodded.

He bent and placed one arm under her knees and the other to support her back before standing swinging her up as gently into his arms as he could manage. Her head moved to rest on his shoulder and he closed his eyes content too simply hold her. And yet holding her like this he was fully aware of how tiny she had become and how light her body was. He fought down the fierce protectiveness that was trying to rear its head. He needed to get her warm, first and foremost.

He stepped up to Renji's door and peeked out, there was no sign of anyone so he would have to send out messages that he had found her once they got back to the fourth division but he would deal with that later. He tucked Hinamori closer and made sure that his cloak was covering as much of her as possible before setting off.

Even when using the quick steps that they were all taught during their training, the rain made short work of their robes. Hinamori was better protected than he was but he could feel the fine shivers that were racing through her body every few seconds. By the time, they reached the fourth division her teeth were shattering. He had done his best to shield her but he could not offer her the same protection that his ice prone system was accustomed to.

"You found her!" a small girl said running forward. She did what he assumed was a quick diagnostic before nodding and motioning for him to follow, "we need to get her warm."

She led them to one of the back rooms where they had what appeared to be a warm bath waiting on them. She motioned to a bench next to the sunken tub. "If you will set Hinamori there, Captain we will take it from there." There were two female healers waiting to assist the small healer and he nodded, before settling his precious cargo on the bench. She clutched at his robes her expression panicked and he offered her a slight smile.

"I will be here when they are done with you," he told her gently. That seemed to ease whatever was bothering her and her grip relaxed.

"We have a change of robes for you, Captain Hitsugaya," Hanatarou said, "if you will follow me I can show you where you can change." At his nod, the small healer led him through the hall and to a small changing room where a set of dry robes and a _hakema_ were waiting for him to change into. There was also a small bit of toweling and he made quick work of the water on his body and changed into the dry clothes. A quick run of the toweling in his hair and he was as dry as he was going to get.

He was thankful for the dry clothes; the squishing noise his clothing had been making annoyed him.

Unohana was waiting for him when he emerged from the changing room, and he moved out the way of the attendant slipping in behind him to take his wet things and get them dried.

"Where did you find her?" she questioned as she lead him across the rooms and towards her office.

"In Renji's office," he said, as she shut the door behind them, "she found the papers that he keeps put up on his requirements for Aizen's things. And why he had been given the rank of captain."

Unohana winced sympathetically, before handing him a cup of tea and sitting down with her own. "I sent a message out saying that we had found Hinamori," she told him, "though most of the searchers were forced to call it quits once the storm hit in force."

"I would have sent out my own but I was dealing with the aftermath of her finding that information." The tea was warm and hot and he felt the muscles that were still tense from forcing his own volatile emotions in check start to ease.

Unohana nodded, "I do not think the fourth division should handle this," she said slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"She doesn't trust us, Hitsugaya. She trusts us not to harm her, but she doesn't trust us to give her what she needs to figure this out."

Hitsugaya shook his head, "She doesn't know how to trust herself and because of that she doesn't trust anyone right now, Unohana."

Unohana smiled, "she trusts you."

He shook his head a bitter half smile twisting his lips. "No she doesn't."

"I think she trusts you more than either of you realize." He quirked a brow at her and schooled his features into a neutral expression, she sent him a disgruntled expression. "She doesn't trust anything that she discovered in this world but you where there before she was a death god. If anything, she will turn to you because she does not know where else to turn. You need to be prepared for that."

He forced himself to remain still. He was not prepared for this, emotionally he was raw from the day's earlier outburst with Hinamori and then tonight seeing her grief and knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent the pain. He was at an impasse and he was not certain that he had the resources needed to understand what was going on.

He was drained.

He looked at Unohana and shook his head, "and what do you suggest I do once she wakes?"

She nodded, "Zaraki had an idea that might help."

His lips twisted in weary amusement. In order for Kenpachi to make any sort of suggestion meant that the two captains had spent some time together. As highly unlikely as that seemed, "And that was?" he would _not_ smirk in amusement at the idea of the rowdy captain offering any sort of emotional or helpful advice that didn't involve the fastest was to disembody someone.

"She is a vice-captain and it would do her good if we put her back in her comfort zone."

Both his brows shot up as he watched the woman to exhausted to try to figure out what she had just said to him. "You want me to make Hinamori my vice-captain?" He finally questioned.

She shook her head, "no the stress of being a vice-captain on both her mental and physical state right now would be devastating. What I am saying is that she needs something to engage her mind and help ease her back into this world."

"She known nothing about your division but she is _in_ your division now Hitsugaya, you need to bring her into it. Have her assist Matsumoto with paperwork, discuss inner division politics with her; give her small projects to start bringing her back into our world. Leaving her locked up in the fourth division is obviously causing her stress that she does not need right now."

She leaned forward, "Do you have any rooms that you can prepare for her in an upper division seat? I would not suggest leaving her alone right now but having a place she can escape to would do far more for her mentally than anything else we can offer her here."

He leaned back in his chair as he mulled over her words, he sighed. Hinamori needed something as an outlet. "If Matsumoto will agree to it her rooms are large enough for the two of them to be comfortable together until Hinamori is able to live on her own. And I have a set of rooms next to Matsumoto that used to belong to my third seat but he was killed in the war and as of yet we have not replaced him. Will that do for you?"

Unohana nodded, "I will need to see her two or three times a week for check up and I will draw up a menu for you on things she can eat and when to start increasing the amounts of food that she is able to intake. It will be important for her to follow the diet or she could do her body more damage"

He nodded, "we can take care of her physically." '_I just hope this idea works.' _He stood, "I told Hinamori that I would be there when your people where done with her." She stood with him and nodded.

"When will you be prepared for her?"

"If Matsumoto is willing, tomorrow afternoon."

"Good, I will see you then."

They had her tucked back into her when he managed to get back to her. He took a quick stock of the room, his captain's cloak was tossed over one of the chairs and a small lantern was lit on the dresser next to the bed. There was also a cup of something on the dresser and by the sleepy expression on her face he figured she would be out before to long.

"They dried your cloak," she said her words soft.

He nodded, and settled in the chair next to her bed. "I will have to thank Isane."

She nodded, "they said I would be fine," her words were gentle slurring and he couldn't stop the slight twitch that was forming at the corners of his mouth. The sedative was working fast and it was all she could do to stay awake.

"I will be back to see you tomorrow afternoon, maybe earlier depending on what I have to do in the morning."

She nodded, "all right."

He reached forward and tucked the covers around her small frame and she sighed. "I can't keep my eyes open," she murmured.

"Then go to sleep," he said just as softly, watching as her eyes slide shut and opened slowly. She did that several times before making a soft noise in the back of her throat and her eyes remained shut. It was not long before her breathing evened out and she was asleep.

He leaned back in the chair and let himself relax in the dim light of the room. It would be a while before he would be able to make the trek back to his own rooms without the threat of being soaked to the skin again. He reached forward with gentle fingers and pushed a lock of hair away from her face.

The battle for Hinamori had just begun. They were on an even playing field now. She knew the truth but whether she would accept it or not would determine the course of action that would need to be taken in the future to ensure that she remained with them. That she was given the time she needed to heal. Tomorrow he would need to talk to Matsumoto and prepare his division for her arrival but that was a job for in the morning. He reached over and borrowed a pillow from her bed and placed it behind his head as he settled in for the night.

Her breathing was a smooth cadence to his raw nerves and felt his own weariness start to ease back into his awareness. Tomorrow he would deal with the repercussions; tonight he would stay and guard her while she slept.

He would not loose her again.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:**Like whoa this was a hard chapter for me to write. First of all I had to figure a way to follow the last chapter (which admittedly was hard!) and second I had to find a way to give you all some information that would probably be a bit boring; aka: insight into Hitsugaya's mental self. So yes, its one of those necessary chapters… that I would cheerfully spork for each of you.

The **good** news is that I have a new Beta! Everyone wave and lay offering to Brittney because she took the time and effort to go over these 13 pages! And I am not entirely sure I would have made it through this chapter without her!

So without further delay! The chapter!

_Chapter Five_

It was late, enough so that he was no longer certain of the time, as the midnight call had gone up long ago. It had been even longer since he had given up the idea of sleep and thrown back the light covering he slept under in a mixture of disgust and frustration. He had padded across his room and into the living area to rest upon the window seat that had been calling his name since had first tried to find some sort of rest once Unohana had kicked him out of Hinamori's room and sent him on his way some hours ago.

He was restless.

His felt his lips twist into an amused half-smile. The previous captain of the tenth division had put in a large window because he enjoyed the sight of nature at all hours of the day. Yet the only time that the window served him any purpose was at night, or in the middle of winter when the world was covered in a blanket of white. The rest of the time long white curtains covered the large window, hiding his private retreat from the world.

Tonight he had left the curtains free and the window open and through it the cold air was washing over him with each stir of the night. It was helping to sooth the raw nerves that were still pulsing with each beat of his blood. Winter was coming, but even that knowledge did not dispel the haze that had settled around him.

He _loathed_ this weakness.

His inability to move past the emotion-driven day, his failure to gauge Hinamori's movements, this was a weakness that still clawed at him. He should have guessed her movements, anticipated her need to understand; he who knew the Hinamori of old better than any other should her have been able to look past his own confusion and despair at her plight and guessed her intentions.

He was furious, at himself and at Hinamori.

Angry because she had not trusted him, had forgotten that there was nothing that he would not do for her, for what they had been before she had betrayed herself and been betrayed. She had forgotten everything that had haunted _him_ for the last two years; had ignored her friends, family, and people who would lay their lives down for her; and had ignored everything that she had built in the years before the war.

She had forgotten who she was.

She had forgotten what he would do for her, what he would become, and what he _had_ become for her.

He could not stop the anger that flared with that understanding, did not _want_ to stop the fury that rose from the deepest part of him. He could feel it rolling through him in dangerous waves that would either rise up and fuel his determination to help her find herself or destroy them both.

He had felt it growing with each movement and word that she spoke or made in an effort to chase him away, to hide from the reality of the world that she had woken to. He could only wonder if she would shy away from the reality of the truth that had been reveled to her today. For both their sakes he hoped that she would not, that she would fight her urge to deny everything and learn how to heal.

And yet so much of that anger he directed at himself. He could have prevented her from running this evening, from hiding. He could have gone against them all and told them to tell her the truth. That her captain had died, that she was no longer part of the fifth division and that Renji was the captain who resided in Aizen's office now.

That the world she had once known was gone.

But would it have been worth it? He would never know now. He had trusted Unohana, he still trusted Unohana. It was the trust that he had once held in himself that was under fire. He was too involved in this situation. What little emotion he was willing to show to the world was wrapped tightly around the small vice-captain. What he hid from even himself and what should have only answered to him and Hyourinmaru, instead answered to her alone.

He would not be able to contain the monster that was slowly growing if she refused to see the truth. He was lost, floundering in a sea of uncertainty that he couldn't seem to find his way out of.

He didn't know how to react or how to handle the knowledge that even now, after everything that had happened, the parts of him that he had long ago closed off burned just as brightly for her as they ever had. It had been to long since he had felt anything but the burning need for revenge. The ice that resided so deeply within him had long ago consumed what small spark of emotion he had held before the war.

She had been awake for less than a month and she had already brought that spark roaring to the fore and sent his frozen walls crashing down; propelled carefully won control to the wind on icy shards that no longer answered his summons. He was locked in a mad scramble to find a balance but she was giving him no room to breath, no time to pull himself together and find the icy depths of his soul and pull it around himself. He was missing the walls that had protected him during the war, shields that had kept him sane during a time of hatred and need for revenge. He grasped for the edges desperately but the faster he reached the faster they slipped away.

It floored him.

He had seen the look in her eyes, the realization and the knowledge that everything would change. It had shone clearly in that broken gaze of hers. Behind the grief, the pain, the anger, and desperation, there had been _understanding_.

And with that the chest of emotions he had locked away had opened and spilled forth.

Possession? Determination? Comfort? Rage?

He knew that some part of him had always claimed her as his, claimed her smiles, her laughter, and her innocence as something to be treasured by him and him alone. It was a side that he had carefully kept hidden from the world, something that would be seen as a weakness. Her vulnerability had brought it streaking to the fore in hard fast waves that had confused him even as he embraced it.

Her tears had brought forth an emotion that had become alien to him during the course of the war, where anything but cold detachment would bring you down long before the sword of the enemy would. And yet, when her anguish and pain had reached forward, the need to comfort her had risen as surely as his need to defend her and this other nameless emotion he could only start to place a title on.

He closed his eyes, suddenly weary. The mantle of captain was riding his shoulders like a lead weight, something he had not felt since the war. He would push himself as far as he could, would tap into every resource he owned for her. The wind blew strongly and the curtains flared beside him. Anything she requested of him.

For as long as he felt the anger that burned brightly in him, for his own forgetfulness and his own misunderstanding he would be whatever she needed. For in the long run it was he who had forgotten what the war had taught him about himself. He had sworn that he would not fail her again. He had gained the revenge that she would need to heal, but he had forgotten so much else, had forgotten the things that had always made Hinamori _his_.

He opened his eyes and gazed in determination at the still cloudy night sky. He would give her what she needed, be that time, space, or a strong arm to help her stand. He had failed her twice: his inability to protect her from Aizen and now his inability to give her the answers she so desperately needed.

And while his heart beat in determination and he could feel Hyourinmaru strengthening that drive to protect, he wondered if perhaps he would fail her again.

He stood as the sun came peeking over the tops of the nearby buildings; today was a day of practice and trail for his division. If he was going to meet that challenge he needed to prepare. It would be a long day if he did not manage to gather his thoughts before he took his place in front of the men and women who made up his division, a long day indeed.

He would have to trust Matsumoto to deal with Hinamori today.

-----

Working with swords was an intricate dance that required agility, strength, knowledge, and patience. It was something that either came naturally to a person or you worked hard and long to master the skills that were needed to survive in their world.

Sword play had come easily to him; the intricate flow and dance, give and take had become as natural as breathing to him once Hyourinmaru had reveled himself. It had become a second nature to him and for years he had reveled in the knowledge that he could control the tempo of a battle and that no foe could stand before him with the hope to prevail. And then Aizen had come with his falsehoods and gentle speeches of war and dominion and he had learned that the sword brought other things besides justice and balance. It brought death, blood, and hatred.

And yet it had also taught him that there was more to a battle than self-control and the ability to read the enemy in front of you. That the blood and sweat that one spilled was far more valuable than knowing complicated _kata's_ and having the swifter sword. There was more to their world than preventing the next hollow attack.

He cast a critical eye over the troops that were moving in a slow rhythm together as they warmed their cold muscles. He cast a disapproving eye on some who were not giving their work the proper attention and a thoughtful look on those who had obviously been training themselves above and beyond his requirements. Good, they had learned something from the wars then.

But they were behind schedule for the morning and that was making him irritable. He had gone out early that morning when an emergency call had been issued. A group of the recruits had gotten themselves into a tangle with a pair of hollows that they could not handle. As the captain on duty, he had taken time from the scheduled training that morning in order to assist them. It had taken time that he had not been willing to grant.

And so now they were just reaching the halfway point of the program that he had set up for the day. A program that would keep him wrapped up and away from keeping an eye on Hinamori and Matsumoto's schemes and dealings as they moved Hinamori's things from the fifth division to her new quarters beside Matsumoto. He trusted Matsumoto but Hinamori had worn herself out yesterday and no amount of casual comments and assurances from those involved had assured him that she would physically be able to handle the demands such a move would place on her.

He turned a careful back to his division and nodded in satisfaction at the smoothness of their motions and sweat that was pooling on their brows. They were warm, which meant that it was time to move onto the next level of the _kata_ they were practicing. He cast a glare at the sun, and it seemed that perhaps he would not finish in time to check in with Matsumoto and see for himself how things were being handled.

As he shifted his stance the men and women in front of him slid into position, understanding through years of training what was coming. Those who did not followed the others' example. This was how he taught the _kata's_ to such a large group. He gave orders for them to split up by rank, so that those with less skill would stand between those who the abilities needed to complete the _kata's_ flawlessly. He slid Hyourinmaru through the air in a neat procession and watched with satisfaction as the rows in front of him followed his movements.

Training day was both the day he hated the most and a day he enjoyed. A double whammy of a moment that normally left him feeling satisfied that his division was not going to kill itself and filled with sorrow that some day soon he might just very well have to send them out and have none of them return. The war had taught them the vast importance of insuring that every member of each division was given ample opportunity to train and to teach.

To teach because each member of each division had a different experience when they were faced with life and death, to fight and kill or be killed. In those moments, things were often revealed to some that were not shown to others. New skills were learned as the ability to turn a blade away was grasped or how to dodge a particular strike came to mind. When one was facing imminent death, knowing someone else's trick on how to duck or having combined several to form your own new skill could be the difference between an endless sleep and waking the next morning.

It was something he encouraged within his division and a part of each training day was set aside so that after the sparring if someone had learned a new trick or wished to test themselves against his own sword to see if an idea would stand up, he let them.

Today, where he normally offered them patience and a calm sword, he was agitated, irritable, and it reflected back at him in the eyes of those before him. He reeled in his temper, ignoring the impatience that was churning through him. He was tense, but he would not let that affect his division's ability to perform, to battle their way back from the dark depths of defeat and despair. He was their captain and he would shoulder that mantle today, even if it meant that he was to be kept from the one place he wished to be above all others. He _would_ trust Matsumoto to handle it.

He let his sword continue in a smooth pattern and watched as many of them with a critical eye as he could. Matsumoto would have normally been with him, moving through the ranks, correcting a foot, or showing someone at a much slower pace. He would have to make do without her today.

He kept the indecision tightly reigned in so that it did not take hold of his countenance. But the rhythmic motions and terse commands were doing nothing to help him control the edginess that had been building for most of the morning, an edginess that only grew at the idea of taking Hinamori from her comfort zone in the fifth division and plunging her into his ranks.

He agreed completely with Unohana that this was the best course of action for Hinamori. That and having her closer meant that he would be able to keep a better watch over the girl. And yet he could not settle the uneasy feeling that continued to build.

Again, the same repetition of stances and blocks, the movements had long ago been ingrained into the depths of his muscles so that each move took no thought and each pass of Hyourinmaru was effortless. He needed the mindlessness of it, the endless rhythm and circling for his mind was not with him this day. He cast glares at those who were not paying the proper amount of attention to his motions and explanations, things that he no longer needed to listen to. He had spoken the commands enough that he could afford to let his mind wander, but that excuse would not suffice for those in front of him.

But wander his mind did.

Hinamori was now completely under his care. Earlier that morning the last of the papers had been sighed, by him and Renji, and Hinamori was now officially in his division. She was listed as the third seated member but in reality there was an unspoken acknowledgement that she was to spend as much time recovering as she needed. Therefore, nothing had really changed in the dynamics of his world and for now he would not need to worry about finding a way to keep her duties to a minimal. Matsumoto would ensure that she was kept busy working as her aid, but nothing more for now.

And yet, for her, everything was changing and that was contributing to the tense silence that was surrounding them all.

The tenth division and the fifth division differed in a lot of their ways. For one, he was nowhere near as laid back with the men and women under his command as Aizen had been. He demanded a certain level of ability and willingness to learn from his recruits and from his seated members and he expected a willingness to teach those lower and the ability to operate on many levels at once. He was not worried that Hinamori would not be able to meet his demands; what worried him was her ability to adjust to the schedule, the work, and differences that made up each division.

He sighed and forced himself to concentrate on those standing in front of him. There was simply nothing he could offer Hinamori or his vice-captain as of right then. He would lose himself in the rhythm of the sword, in the call of Hyourinmaru and he would dance with those in front of him.

Intricate movements as old as time would take root in his world, would _again_ teach him calm, quiet, and how to block everything from him but his goal. He would cast his feet on the ground, but he would not be bound to it. Even if it took him a lifetime to reach the peak of this mountain that rose so strongly in front of him, he would best it. He was a dragon, Hyourinmaru shimmered briefly in his hand for the first time in weeks, and he felt his lips quirk in a half-smile. He would not be defeated so easily by the unrest and disquiet that held him in an iron grasp.

He turned his full attention to his troops for the first time that afternoon, the ice and peace that so often came with Hyourinmaru's unleashed presence calming him. Each flick of his wrist was mirrored, each stance copied, his soft chants and each movement followed to the highest level of detail and attention. He watched in approval as they to slowly became lost in the rhythm and beauty of their deadly dance.

Perhaps this afternoon would not be as long as he had thought it would. He nodded his approval at one of the recruits at the front when she performed the complicated _kata_ with a flawless ease that spoke of long hours of practice. She smiled quickly before redoubling her efforts.

He slipped into the next phase of their early morning work and turned his back on his division, trusting them to follow his lead.

Perhaps not that long at all.

Some hours later he wiped the back of his hand against his sweaty brow and nodded at the man who was now picking himself off the ground, a sheepish expression on his face, before he picked up his soul cutter.

"Again," Hitsugaya said, his words cutting through the silence that had greeted the man's request to test a new idea of his. Indecision slid through the man as clear as day. Hitsugaya was by far the better swordsman but the idea was a good one, it just needed to be tweaked.

"Again," he repeated.

The man came at him and Hitsugaya slid right before bringing Hyourinmaru up to block his strike. The man slid into his defense position and Hyourinmaru countered swiftly before feinting one direction and with the same speed moving in other. Moments later the man was on his back staring back up at him. He nodded in approval.

"You were faster that time, again." They repeated the motion several times before the man understood how to block the movements that were sending him to the ground. By the end of it the man was sweaty, red in the face, and obviously weary, but there was a large smile of understanding on his face.

"Thank you, Captain," he said, bowing.

Hitsugaya returned the courtesy with a half-bow of his own before turning towards those who had lingered to see the outcome of the impromptu lesson.

"Anyone else?"

A few shook their heads while the rest remained silent. He waved his hand, dismissing them.

"Finish out your daily duties and you are done for the day." His words were greeting with small, tired cheers and smiles. He sheathed Hyourinmaru and headed for his rooms. The sun would set in an hour or so and he needed a bath desperately.

Thirty minutes later he was blessedly clean. The hot water had done wonders to help him fight off the weariness that a day with a sword in his hand had brought, and Matsumoto had left him some cold cuts of meat that had easily been made into a dinner of several sandwiches.

The sun was setting neatly against the backdrop of the buildings around him when he finally made it to Matsumoto's room. She and Hinamori were settled over plates of food and talking in low tones when he arrived. Matsumoto looked up in slight surprise when his tall shadow filled the room before relaxing. Hinamori looked up at him in confusion before a hesitant smile lifted the corners of her lips.

He felt his own smile start in the depth of his stomach and slowly start to slide its way upward before he caught it. He offered her a half-smile in return. She dropped her eyes and he moved into the room.

"Have a productive day?" he questioned, one brow rising at the obvious signs of weariness on both of their faces. Hinamori looked like she was ready to keel over, he realized, shooting Matsumoto a concerned look. Even with the care the fourth division had been giving her, she was still much weaker than he would have liked. And while he was certain Matsumoto would have kept her work to a minimum, it would not take much to wear the small woman out. He was surprised she was not already in bed somewhere sleeping.

Matsumoto nodded at him while idly pouring herself another cup of sake. "Yes, we were able to recruit a bit of help and some of the large and smalls things have successfully been moved," she said, her tone weary, before she downed the glass in one go. "Hinamori is a lover of stuff."

The girl in question made a small face, her expression guarded behind the weariness.

"You have more stuff than I do," she muttered, her voice not carrying the heated tone that would have once graced her voice. He exchanged a glance with Matsumoto once her attention was back on the food in front of her, small smiles sliding briefly across their features.

"You are a pack rat," the blond woman sniffed in return.

Hitsugaya quirked a brow at the two of them. "Do you need anything else tomorrow?"

"There is still a couch, bookcase, and some other god-awfully huge piece of furniture that we did not get moved today," Matsumoto counted off on her fingers. "And some boxes that were just too heavy to bother with by the time we got to them." She shot him an exasperated look. "She has lots of stuff."

He nodded. "I will round up some volunteers and we can get the rest of it moved tomorrow."

Hinamori's eyes widened at his words before she ducked her head to hide whatever else she was thinking from them. Another glance with Matsumoto, full of unspoken words, and he wondered if perhaps she had not been quite as happy to see him as her small smile had offered. He quirked a brow at his vice-captain in question and she shook her head in answer. He would have to find out later then, he realized; neither woman would talk with the other in the room.

Perhaps Unohana, for once, was as wrong as the rest of them with her theories.

Hinamori looked up at him. "I received a missive from the first division to tell me that I had been transferred," her words were soft and he had to strain to here them. "Why?"

It took more willpower than he had known he contained not to look at Matsumoto and see the expression on her face. It would have provided all the warning he needed how to proceed, but with Hinamori looking at him with that lost expression he dared not.

"When you were in your coma I was giving guardianship over you, since your captain was not available." The truth, he would give her the truth.

Again, that hesitant expression he could not read. "Why was I transferred?"

"Now that you are awake it was agreed that I would maintain guardianship until you were strong enough to take back your vice-captainship." She was watching him carefully, her brown eyes guarded, her expression as bland as he had ever seen it.

"Who is the vice-captain of the fifth division?"

It was then that he understood what he could not ask his vice-captain. Being transferred could mean so many things: the captain did not feel that you were in the right place, you were considered incompetent or unstable, or sending you somewhere else meant that you had a chance of finding what you excelled at where you were not constantly clashing with your captain. When you were an upper seated division member it could mean the captain no longer had any use for you or that there were changes going to be made and he did not think you would adjust to those changes.

Hinamori could only assume the worst. That Renji did not want her as his vice-captain so he had sent her on her way or he thought that she would not adjust well. A blow to any one accustomed to being of high rank.

"As of right now, they have not replaced you. Renji is waiting for everyone to recover and start to get a semblance of themselves before he makes that decision or holds the trial." He watched as the spark that had been lingering so closely to the edge of her vision failed her. "It is also assumed that you will be taking back the mantle of vice-captain and so I believe there was a petition for him to wait until you were healed to hold the trials so that you could battle for your position."

Her eyes shot up from where they had been gazing intently at the patter on the table in the living room.

"If you are not ready in a few months, I have been told that as soon as you are ready you are free to challenge the vice-captain for your position back."

"Oh."

He watched as that information settled in and hoped that he given her something to work towards; if he had, it might speed her recovery. He frowned again at the look of exhaustion on her features before standing.

"What time would you like me to meet you in the morning?"

"Late," his vice-captain said instantly. "I refuse to rise before the sun tomorrow." He sent her a grateful look and she smiled in return.

He nodded. "I will have your volunteers there and waiting for you then about midmorning." This would give him the time he needed to work on the paperwork they had both neglected that day and give Hinamori time to recharge her energy levels.

Matsumoto made a face and downed another cup of sake. "Fine." She motioned for him to go and he nodded.

"I will see you in the morning then," he said, leaving them to their meal with a strange combination of emotions warring within him. He wanted nothing more to stay and ensure that Hinamori found her rest but he had the feeling that as long as he was there she would fight her weariness. For now he would leave it up to Matsumoto.

He let his fingers slid over the hilt of Hyourinmaru before closing his eyes with a sigh. Hinamori's half-smile played against the back of his eyelids. He wondered if he would get any rest this night.

"That is quite a weary expression for a Captain of the Gotei 13. Don't you think so, Nanao-chan?"

He turned, slamming his shields up quickly, barely managing to hide his surprise at the sight of Kyouraku Shunsui and his vice-captain Isane Nanao. The tall vice-captain offered her captain a look that Hitsugaya could not decipher, but he _could_ read the expression on Shunsui's face. "Do you think some _sake _will cheer the good captain up, Nanao-chan?"

Nanao turned a considering look upon him and shook her head.

"Probably not," she said, her tone dry, at some unspoken acknowledgement between them. Hitsugaya was almost amused at how well they read each other and interacted, but he was finding it hard to be amused at anything these days.

"Have you eaten?" Shunsui questioned, tipping his large hat up so that he could look better at the man who had once been a boy shorter than himself; now they were practically eye-to-eye.

"Somewhat," he replied.

"Ukitake has asked us to see if you would like to join us for dinner."

One brow rose in slight surprise at the mention of the older captain before he nodded. Shunsui took it as the agreement that it was before turning and marching off resolutely.

"Come my Nanao-chan, we shall dine with fine company this night."

He felt amusement soothe the nerves that the sight of Hinamori had reopened at the sound of the lovely vice-captain grinding her teeth at her captain's words. It was a quiet walk to Ukitake's rooms, for which Hitsugaya was thankful. The nights were becoming chillier as winter quickly approached the Seireitei, and the part of him that would always belong to the ice and snow stirred in silent anticipation. It would not be long now.

The door was opened long before they reached the quarters of the quiet captain and Hitsugaya was not surprised to see that a large amount of food was out and waiting for them as they stepped through the large wooden doors and into the welcoming room.

Ukitake looked up from where he was seated next to the fire and smiled at them as they entered. "Ah you made it," he said in welcome. "I was wondering if I was perhaps going to have to dine alone this night."

Shunsui smiled out from under his hat. "With that much _sake_ just lying around? Never fear my friend, I would not forsake you to such a fate."

Nanao rolled her eyes and settled in a graceful movement at the table. Instantly the males settled as well, though Hitsugaya knew it was from age-old protocol and manners that had the other two men settling, long years of ritual and practice guiding their movements when in the presence of a lady, even one known so well to them as Nanao Isane was. He followed suit, knowing he would feel awkward and gawky around the smooth and graceful men steeped in rich tradition as they were, but he welcome the normalcy of such feelings. For tonight he found himself craving that normalcy.

The dinner was a quiet affair with soft words passing between the three comrades, Hitsugaya listening with rapt attention to their light banter. He had eaten several times with them and knew well enough what they were offering, a night of companionship and easy banter instead of his own thoughts. It was a distraction he welcomed.

It was not until the fire was nothing but glowing embers and the _sake_ was reduced to a simple jug that Shunsui was nursing happily that Ukitake turned serious eyes to him.

"Did Hinamori sustain any lasting damage during her night in the cold air?" he questioned.

Hitsugaya paused with his tea cup halfway to his mouth, tea that Nanao had kindly made for those who had no aspirations to drink the _sake_ that Shunsui was consuming at an astonishing rate.

"She is well," he said, catching only a hint of the man's true question, his mind too fuzzy from the night of no sleep and day of hard work to play the careful word game that so often flowed between the captains.

"And you?"

He sat his cup of tea down gently before turning serious eyes on the man in front of him and sighing.

"It has been trying." It was strange, he realized, how one could sometimes read the emotion that flowed so easily from the blond man in front of him, while other times one was left grasping at straws and wondering if you truly understood him. Yet, tonight, even in his fuzzy state he could read the concern and worry that shone from the man, knowing as he did so only because Ukitake was letting him.

"It is never easy to help one you care about so far back from the edge as Hinamori as gone," Shunsui said before Ukitake could answer, his tone as serious as he had ever heard from the captain, a quiet reminder that there was more to the man than the _sake_ and pretty vice-captain who kept him in line.

He nodded his agreement as Ukitake began to speak. "You have moved her in with Matsumoto?"

He nodded again. "Yes, Unohana suggested keeping her in constant company and Matsumoto thought it to be the best choice."

Again the nods from both of the men, while Nanao simply leaned back in her chair to listen, her dark eyes taking in the scene quietly. Hitsugaya was certain that she would later revel whatever conclusions she had reached to the men beside her. They were blessedly silent after their brief questioning and Hitsugaya took that opportunity to stand.

"Thank you for the meal," he told Ukitake, who stood as he did. He knew their intentions were good and that he would most likely seek their advice later on now that the door had been opened, but right now the wounds were still to fresh in his mind and his thoughts were too sluggish to analyze and explain the things he only half understood himself.

"Of course," the older man said with a smile as he walked him to the door. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Shunsui leaned close to whisper to his vice-captain, who gave him a disgruntled look.

Ukitake laid his hand upon Hitsugaya's shoulder before he could walk out the door; he turned his attention back to the older captain.

"Give her the time she needs, Captain Hitsugaya," he said, his voice serious and low so as to not carry far. "But be careful that you do not step too far from her or she might slip away."

They two men watched each other for several long moments before Hitsugaya nodded in what he hoped was an understanding matter.

Apparently it was, for Ukitake nodded in return. "Do not hesitate to come by," he said, his voice cheerful once more. "You are always welcome around here."

Hitsugaya nodded his thanks once more before turning to begin the quiet walk back to his own rooms and perhaps to his own bed. He turned his gaze on the clear sky and high moon, feeling somewhat better than he had in a several days. Tomorrow they would finish transferring Hinamori into the tenth division's world and perhaps it would be the new start that they all needed to heal.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note:** The next chapter as been completed after much thought, writing, re-writing and long discussions with the amazing beta. This chapter would NOT have been written without the Brittany, and so we all leave large amount of thanks and gratitude at her feet.

Mio and DreamRyuu your responses can be found at my writing journal, www (dot) community (dot) livejournal (dot) com / abrokenquill , at the end of the chapter. There is a link for it in my bio as well if for some reason the above link does not work.

A little bit more action and some plot advancement for all of you! I hope you enjoy.

And as always, I hope I didn't make Hitsu to wonky for you.

This chapter would have been up to days previous but I have had a hard time getting it to upload.

-

_Chapter Six_

Hitsugaya braced his hands on the bottom of the couch that, in theory, he and Renji were going to lift in a few short moments. He looked up and nodded, holding his position until the man on the other side nodded as well. Identical soft grunts filled the living room as their muscles flexed and strained, and then the couch was slowly lifting from the ground. It had been a recent invention, containing a pull out chair and cup tray; Hinamori had fallen in love with it when it had first come out and had saved for about year to buy it. It was a recent enough purchase that Hitsugaya could vividly remember moving the thing in the first time and swearing to never touch it again.

Back then it had taken a week of begging and bribing to get him and Kira to move the thing in for her. It hadn't lost a bit of its weight and if she hadn't looked like a wounded puppy when they suggested leaving it, he would have already chopped and hacked the thing to bits. The only good thing was he had Renji this time and not Kira.

He grunted again as Renji's fingers slipped and they had to make a quick recovery. Matsumoto had warned them that using anything but their physical strength might damage Hinamori's favorite couch and she didn't want to have to deal with that stress. Hitsugaya was quite certain that there were several _kidou_ spells that would have made this _much_ easier. They finally got the thing into position and started to carefully walk it out of her rooms and the trolley that was waiting outside, with several "volunteers" prepared to push and pull the trolley loaded with her furniture to the tenth division and Hinamori's new rooms.

It took a bit more finagling and careful negotiating to get the thing to fit in the place that had been designated for it and they both slumped over the couch once it was carefully loaded to take in some much needed air. When Matsumoto had said that there that were some little things that needed to be lifted and loaded she had been under exaggerating it by quite a bit.

Besides the Couch of Doom, as Renji had taken to calling it, there was a large bookcase, table and chairs, and a huge thing of a dresser in her room. Each piece was a part of an elegant set that had been at one point or another a gift from someone, some new piece of technology that she had enjoyed so much that someone had consequently gotten it for her.

He preferred a bit more simplistic approach to things, going more for tradition and comfort than these pieces, but Hinamori had always had a bit of exotic taste. Sometimes he wondered if perhaps she didn't enjoy getting the bigger things simply so she could watch people struggle to move them. They _were_ beautiful in their own way, but he was sure she was one of the few upper division members who held such modern tastes.

Very _heavy_ modern tastes.

As they walked back into Hinamori's rooms both of them made a quick beeline for the pitcher of fresh water that Matsumoto had provided and Hitsugaya was keeping cold, before Matsumoto could poke her head out and give them something else to do. It was a cooler day, winter finally starting to settle in, but all the lifting and hauling that they had been doing for the last hour was starting to take its toll, both having already shed their captain's clocks in an attempt to give themselves some sort of reprieve from the heat.

He glanced over to where Matsumoto was working on the bathroom, gentle humming and muttered cursing interchanging as she continued to pack and box the things up. Hinamori was settled on a large cushion as she worked on wrapping the things that Matsumoto brought her, her small hands working slowly but steadily. She looked tired, but she was getting stronger now that she was accepting the food and remedies that the fourth division was offering her. Her consequent run through the rain had, thankfully, done her no permanent damage and the strict resting regime that Matsumoto was enforcing was doing wonders for her.

It did _him_ good to see the shine coming back to her hair and skin. Her eyes were not sparkling yet but there was a small lifting of her mouth and her countenance was much calmer than he had seen it since she had awoken. And her fingers no longer shook the way they had been for the last couple of days.

Yes, things were looking like they were starting to improve.

He and Renji exchanged glances, their eyes going to the furniture they had left, and sighed; they had best get back to work or it was going to be quite some time before they finished. At least they weren't the ones hauling the furniture to her new room. They just had to load and unload.

A few hours later, they were both sweat soaked and ready to quit when Matsumoto voiced that there were sandwiches made if they were hungry. Renji dropped the end of the chest that he and Hitsugaya were moving with a grin.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

Hitsugaya nodded, easing his end to the ground and wiping at the sweat that was sliding down his brow and into his eyes.

"Agreed."

Hitsugaya turned and felt his brows rise in surprise when Renji moved across the room where Hinamori had been ordered to stay earlier that morning and draping an arm around her shoulders to he rub his sweaty forehead against her cheek. Her eyes went wide, squeaking before she shoved him away, her face disgusted.

"Renji, _gross_," she wailed in annoyance, rubbing furiously at her cheek as he shot her an amused glance before moving on towards the sandwiches.

Matsumoto arrived bearing a plate for Hinamori, handing it to her and winking at Hitsugaya.

"It's just a bit of sweat, dear," she chirped, settling beside her.

Hinamori's disgruntled expression didn't change as she took a bite of the sandwich that Matsumoto had brought her. She looked around the room quietly.

"I guess we are almost done?" she questioned after swallowing, before rubbing her cheek against her uniform her once more.

Matsumoto nodded as Hitsugaya and Renji settled on the floor next to them. "The guys have all almost all the furniture moved, and the last of the boxes are almost packed."

She nodded, her eyes moving down again and Hitsugaya sighed softly. While he had been working on paperwork that morning he had tried to figure out a way to make moving easier on her. She had lived in these rooms long enough that every inch of it had been imprinted upon by her personality and love of life and they were very much her safe haven.

With all the furniture missing and the shelves and little knick knacks that made this place Hinamori's, it looked like a cold, pale image of the warm and inviting home that it had once been. And the expression in her eyes as she looked around was enough to make him want to tell Renji to forget it and move everything back into the rooms for her.

If only things were so simple.

But that wasn't what had his attention right then.

There was something wrong with his vice-captain, Hitsugaya had realized as he watched her talk to Hinamori. She had slight lines around her mouth and her hands were gripping things a bit tighter than usual. Hinamori didn't seem to notice, and a quick glance at Renji proved that he was too concerned with the sandwiches in front of him to catch it.

So what was going on?

He continued to watch her and Hinamori as they ate, Matsumoto teasing Hinamori about the joys of sweat and Hinamori doing her best to ignore her. Hinamori didn't look stressed at all and it appeared that Matsumoto was not going to tell him what was wrong anytime soon because she refused to look at him.

He would have to question her later.

It was only after he and Renji finished off the sandwiches and started to load up the chest that it occurred to him that it was probably going to be anything but pleasant news, and would more than likely involve Hinamori.

It was some time later that he found himself finally back in his own rooms. He was tired and worn out from the combination of the early morning and the constant lifting and shifting that Matsumoto had required from them. She was determined to keep Hinamori happy and so they had moved every piece of furniture in her new rooms at least four times. Matsumoto had moved in and requested that they help her set up some of the bigger things so that Hinamori would not be tempted to try to move them on her own.

It was only when Hinamori was asleep on one of the cushions, after leaving her alone for a few minutes, that they made the unanimous decision to call it quits for the day.

It had taken a bit of negotiating to get the exhausted girl into bed, Matsumoto going ahead of them to set up the futon in her room and Hitsugaya carrying her over. Once they had her on her futon Matsumoto had shooed them out quickly, sending them on their way with promises of a possible breakfast in the morning.

He sighed, stretching carefully and sighing in satisfaction when his neck and back popped. Personally, he was just thankful that they had managed to get her moved _today_ because tomorrow he was going to have to spend more time in the office and catch up on all the work that he had been neglecting to get her where she needed to be.

He curled up in his window seat with a hot cup of tea. Tomorrow was a new day, his constant mantra it seemed. No matter what went wrong with one day at least he had the next one to look forward to. He took a long sip of the steaming drink in his hands. Maybe tomorrow would be the day that she realized that everything was going to be alright.

He found himself at his desk working on the amounts of paperwork in front of him much earlier than he would have liked. The sun was not yet up when he sat at his desk, pen in hand. Already new piles of paperwork were awaiting him; did every other captain in the city find it impossible to sleep these days?

What had him worried was that he had seen Matsumoto wandering around earlier, heading for what looked like the fifth division. He had chalked it up to the fact that perhaps they had not gotten Hinamori something that she had wanted.

He had been hesitant at first for Hinamori to stay with her; Matsumoto had a large soft spot for the girl and he had been worried that she would be as susceptible to Hinamori's pleading looks as he was. Instead, she had pleasantly surprised him. Forcing to girl to rest, and while she was giving her things to do, label and pack boxes, it was nothing that was going to stress or tax her overwhelmed body.

The results were showing.

She had been with Matsumoto a scant three days but already she was starting to look rested; her face didn't look as shallow and exhausted and she looked to be gaining weight. Unohana had said that the effects of rest and food would be visible a bit quicker than normal because her body was going to absorb them very quickly as it tried to recover.

He was just relieved that the shaking in her hands was starting to go away, showing strength of body that simply had not been there before. Unfortunately, that did not mean that she was any better, it just meant that her body was starting to regain its former strength, slowly but surely she would get better physically. Mentally, she had only gained a small amount of ground.

Her discovery and knowledge of what Aizen had become had helped to push her into the real world, and with that came the start of the healing process. But it was that continued emotional instability that had him worried. There was no sparkle or shine in her eyes. Even the disgust of someone else's sweat, something Hinamori was known for disliking, had done little to bring a spark of any sort to her eyes.

He closed his eyes for a moment before pushing thoughts of Hinamori away from him. He needed to get to work on this paperwork or he was never going to catch up. He grabbed a new pen from the cup on his desk and began to read the paper in front of him.

At this rate it would take him weeks to get caught up.

It was well past lunch when Matsumoto finally made her appearance.

"What took you so long?" he asked, signing his name to the piece of paper in front of him.

"Captain, I need to discuss something with you."

He looked up, one brow rising in question. "Pull up a chair."

As she pulled the chair behind her desk over to the front of his he shifted the finished paperwork into a pile before turning his attention to his obviously upset vice-captain.

"What is it, Matsumoto?"

She sat a box down in front of him. "Open it," she said, motioning towards it.

He rifled through the box, one brow rising at the sight of a girl's comb, blue ribbons, and a small charm bracelet that was very obviously a token of affection. His brows lowered at the sight of a small bottle of clear liquid before he turned his eyes to Matsumoto.

"Explain."

She sighed before pulling out the charm and bottle. "I found these in this box in Hinamori's bathroom in a bottom drawer yesterday."

He nodded. "Hinamori has always had admirers Matsumoto," he said softly. "I am quite certain as a vice-captain yourself you can understand that."

She shook her head. "This is a lover's token," she said. "See the figure of a man and a woman embracing?" She motioned towards the tiny couple in the middle of the charm. "Only a man who is quite confident in his position as a lover would give this to a woman."

He felt both of his brows lower. Hinamori had had a lover? Had anyone known that? "I take it there is more?"

She nodded. "This," she said, motioning to the clear liquid bottle. "Is artificial lubrication." She flinched at the low growl he couldn't repress. There was no misunderstanding what _that_ meant.

"What else?"

She hesitated.

"That was not a request, Matsumoto."

She sighed. "I didn't find these," she said, gesturing to the ribbons and comb.

"Who did?" Again the hesitation, and he felt his irritation rise. "Matsumoto…"

"Renji did, Captain."

His world narrowed to the ribbons and comb. Renji… if Renji had been the one to find the ribbons and the comb then there was only one person who Hinamori could have been sharing a bed with…

"You are sure?" he questioned, and again Matsumoto flinched.

"I asked Unohana," she said slowly, carefully, as if judging each word. "To be sure, and she said that it was certain that Hinamori was sharing someone's bed prior to her coma, she just wasn't sure who. The ribbons match the type Hinamori wears, and here." She pointed to a small insignia on the base of the comb. "Is a small peach, as if the comb was made for her…."

She never really had time to finish her sentence. He was up and moving before she could stop him. He had to get out. He could feel the pressure building up in his system, anger, frustration, betrayal, he didn't know. He felt his reiatsu snapping under the stress, felt it seeping into the cold air as he practically ran from his office.

It was too much too fast.

He didn't remember passing anyone, too set in his determination to get away before he did something that he was goingto regret later. He was aware of making it through the city and into the forest outside before Hyourinmaru snapped to the fore, before ice erupted through out him so fast that his head was spinning and his fury consumed him.

Even then he wasn't sure when his vision had gone white with fury, when he lost his ability to rationalize what was going on. The only thing that he was certain about was that he had made it safely from the city, from the innocents that had been in danger.

Aizen… he felt it then, a low rumble deep in his throat, the way his fingers slide through the air to grasp the hilt of Hyourinmaru. His eyes snapped with fury and as he lost his battle for control his reiatsu snapped in and then out in a rush that left him light headed.

Understanding coupled with the raw fury that threatened to overwhelm him with the knowledge that Aizen had once again pulled the wool over his eyes when it concerned Hinamori. He tried to understand the emotions that were slipping through his system with such speed. Jealousy? She had gone to _him_. Betrayal? She had refused to tell a soul, including the one she claimed to hold such close kinship with. Hatred? Aizen had claimed what he held most precious and he had been blind to it. He had missed the signs that should have told him the story and would have explained everything.

He pushed what emotion he could away from him, choosing instead to focus in on the absolute rage that was slipping into a spiral that would soon reach its breaking point. The temperature had been steadily falling in the last few weeks and the icy chill had only been intensified by the cold anger that was sweeping through him. He could feel Hyourinmaru stirring and he had no desire to curb the outright fury of his soul slayer. It was a shared feeling that threatened to consume them.

He unsheathed his soul slayer with the ease of hundreds of years of practice, the explosions his movements caused rocking the forest and uprooting hundreds of years of growth and stability.

He could no longer contain the emotion that he had been so carefully holding back the last couple of days. He had no desire to. He relished in the feelings that were sweeping so strongly through his blood, accepting the desire to maim and destroy the ex-captain and let it roar through him in whichever direction it chose to. It was too much, and as his shields snapped and fled before the ferocity of his wrath he felt another's presence.

He turned, a smooth graceful glide that belayed the fury within and met the concerned gaze of Captain Ukitake, sword shinning in hand. Hitsugaya smiled, a cold detached look that caused the older man's eyes to darken as well.

"Captain Hitsugaya," he said, his words calm and steady.

"I take it your offering me a chance to spar with you?" His words held the iciness of the cold that was slowly turning the forest around him into nothing but an ice field. He watched with satisfaction as the other man nodded.

He exploded into action, Hyourinmaru sliding into position as he swung at the other man. Ukitake blocked, and there was another explosion as the force of their reiatsu's met and repelled each other, and then just as quickly he was gone. He hopped that the older captain was up to the challenge right then, because he had just become his outlet for his emotions, one he desperately needed.

It was a fast game of shunpo and blocked strikes as Hitsugaya attacked. There was no grace, no motion of elegance and gentle contacts as there was in training. This was not a session of aggression against compassion or someone seeking revenge, it was a battle between two accustomed to each others movements and style.

Only this time there was no control, no holding back in order to keep the other one from feeling each others true force. It was all or nothing, white hot rage fighting against anyone and everything. There were lines around Ukitake's mouth as he fought to hold up against his fellow captains rage, but his hands were steady and his gaze as sure as his footsteps, his movements quick, thousands of years of training and ability rising to the fore as he met the gaze of the angry young captain. He had the advantage of years and the power that came with those years while Hitsugaya had nothing but his own rage fuelling his power.

It was only when another sword blocked his and he was turning his attention to a much bigger opponent that he felt himself surfacing from the blind rage. Zaraki Kenpachi smiled at him and he felt his own smile returning, no less pretty or merciful as he eyed his new opponent. So that was why he had not seen Shunsui… he glanced at Ukitake and nodded at the hard breathing captain before turning back to Zaraki.

"Zaraki," he said.

The man nodded. "I here you have a little steam to work off." If anything the man's smile widened. "And so I thought I would volunteer to keep you company."

The rage shifted into something else he couldn't name, and his own lips rose in agreement to the blatant challenge. He watched with interest as the man's reiatsu rose and he increased the outflow of his own power, his vision hazing slightly with the force he was releasing. He was barely aware of the trees that were snapping or the cold that was freezing the air as Hyourinmaru made himself known to those that had dared to try to calm his fury.

He shifted and then Zaraki was coming and it was again a dance of steel against steel. Only it was no longer the touch and go game he and Ukitake had played. Each strike was followed closely by another as they worked hard to prove their dominance over the other.

Swords met with flashes of temper and power, each strike another blow to the forest around. Yet they continued, drawing each other to the brink and pushing beyond the fury and the anger that had taken root so deeply until they were simply an extension of the blades that they wielded. They were blind and deaf to anything but the screams and cries of their swords, demands for blood and victory that neither could ignore even as shikai's were pulled down from the air and slapped against each other.

Zaraki snapped his sword out and his brows rose in surprise as a chain curled around the blade of his soul slayer and Hitsugaya halted the blow that would have impaled him. Hitsugaya smirked, one brow rising in a blatant challenge, and Zaraki laughed, a strange sound in the midst of their field, but appropriate given the circumstances.

"I had heard of this little trick of yours," he grinned, a feral smile that would have made the hair on Hitsugaya's neck and shoulders stand up had he not been consumed by his own battle lust. Zaraki laughed again, sending a blast of reiatsu through the ice that was slowly consuming his arm.

"I am impressed." The ice snapped off with a click. "I had not thought it fast enough to get around _my_ arm."

Hitsugaya smirked, a slow quirking of his mouth that had Zaraki throwing back his head to laugh once more. Both were breathing hard as they stared at each other, a brief respite hard earned for both of them.

Hitsugaya wiped the blood that was sliding down his forehead and mixing with his sweat away from his eyes, all the while watching his opponent. But that did not seem to matter to the man in front of him. The rumors of his love of blood and battle had always been accounted as true, but it seemed to go much deeper than that. Zaraki Kenpachi was a fighter, born and bred as such, yet no matter how he longed for a fight or enjoyed it, Hitsugaya had never once seem him randomly attack anyone who could not defend himself or go for an innocent.

He smirked at the older man as he took a quick stock of both of them.

Both were bruised, cut, bleeding, and he wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't broken a finger in his left hand. He couldn't make himself care. He knew he was caught up in the battle lust, the need to attack again and again until his opponent declared him the victor, to continue on until the ground was stained with blood and he alone stood tall. The never-changing smile on Zaraki's expression promised that he felt the same.

And then there swords were meeting again.

All he knew was the strike and turn of the blade, of the ice that was flowing so hotly

through his veins and the anger that was only now starting to tap down, to slow, only to be replaced by the desire to win and destroy, to defeat the man in front of him. A captain's greatest strength was his ability to slide into the need for battle and the strength that he drew from so deep within but it was also their greatest downfall.

Captains remained cold and aloof during battle because they had to in order to maintain control and not lose themselves in the bloodlust that could strike them so suddenly. They had to maintain a level of control and excel at the ability to move past their own desires and hatred. He was failing miserably, no longer caring who or what came between him and his target.

He could not fight past his own self-loathing, could not fight the desperation that was settling across his shoulders as surely as a lover's warmth, could not fight the understanding that _this_ above all other things would stay with him. That he had not seen the depths of deception that Aizen had sunk to in order to maintain his hold over Hinamori.

He had not guessed, could not have guessed, that this would have been his final act, the one thing he could not truly move past. He was no fool, he knew that Hinamori had her fare share of lovers and tokens; she was a vice-captain and a beautiful woman, after all. Her closest friends during her years of training had been Renji and Kira, two of the hardest partiers and seducers of women he had seen in the academy. But not once had he guessed that she had made the transfer from simple vice-captain to warming her captain's bed.

Repeatedly, for who knew how long.

He bit and struck against Kenpachi's sword as he fought a losing battle within himself. In his mind, he saw her tears when she had lashed out at him the first time, her disbelief in his words when he denied his involvement, the horror and the anger that she had produced when he had tried so hard to keep her safe.

He saw her constant struggle to go after the man that the rest of them thought dead and avenge him, her fierce need to remain in her dream world, and her grief at realizing she could never return to him. He had known she cared, known she loved him, but this… this was the final push towards the slow slide to hell that he could not stop.

And so he continued to strike, again and again, at himself and at Hinamori while Zaraki met every strike and every snarl of fury that rose from him. And then just as suddenly as it started, it was over. Both men pulled back, in silent acknowledgement and Hitsugaya sheathed Hyourinmaru, the edge of his fury abated. He sighed at the sight of the decimated forest, nodding to the bleeding man and receiving a smile in return.

"Do you need assistance?" Zaraki questioned.

It was a kind, if unusual, offer from the older man, but he shook his head. Zaraki nodded and as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, off to receive treatment from Unohana, no doubt.

He turned and walked along the carnage that his fury had produced, his eyes glazed over, ignoring the blood that was oozing from countless cuts and the pain that they brought. He was numb, cold, and yet exhilarated all at once. He settled his long frame on one of the many boulders his rampage had created, hands resting on his knees, and delved inward to once again contain the emotions that were regrouping. Hyourinmaru was content, sated by the battles with Ukitake and Kenpachi, leaving Hitsugaya to cope with the repercussions.

He was still reeling from the information that Matsumoto had given him so carefully earlier that day. He looked up at the stars that had come out sometime during his fight and he was suddenly relived that he had managed to get out somewhere deep in the heart of their world before unleashing his gift.

A gift, or a curse, he no longer knew. He raised his fingers in slight wonder at the moisture that was still dripping down his face. Tears? He didn't know. He could not feel them, all he could feel was an endless numbness at his own foolishness. He should have been preparing himself for this information, should have understood where Hinamori's loyalties had lain and how far her devotion for her captain would have taken her.

He wondered, briefly, if she had enjoyed her time with her captain. Did she treasure it as he treasured the memories he had of her? Did she still dream of him and cry out his name in the night when he was not there to hold her? He didn't know, didn't _want_ to know.

He loved her.

He _knew_ that. It was not a simple fancy for his childhood friend. It was not an easy, one-sided love of soft looks and gentle words that would last for eons and never hold anything of value for her. It was not a calm, complacent adoration that settled gently in his chest as he watched and admired her from afar.

It was a devotion that ran so deeply he would become whatever she asked of him. He would bend the stars and reach into the very depths of hell to make her happy. It was the knowledge that she belonged to _him_ as much he belonged to her and had since the very first smile she had bestowed upon him. He would kill any who harmed her. He had killed to defend her. He was no longer the boy she had known. He did not fancy himself as a brother wanting to protect his sister. He knew better. He knew what she could do to him, what she would do to him, what she was doing to him.

And so it bit at him, hard and deep, that he had not seen the same expression in her eyes that had reflected back at him during his moments of weakness. It was the same expression that Matsumoto had given Gin before he had left her. It was the same smile that graced Shunsui's mouth when Nanao was not paying particular attention to him. He knew that _look_.

And he had missed it. When it would have given him all the answers he needed, the last piece of the puzzle, the final clue that had proven, in the end, to be his undoing.

"Captain Hitsugaya?"

He turned at the sound of Matsumoto's voice, her words strange and quiet after the lingering reverberation of battle and rage.

He nodded before turning his gaze back to the stars in silent acceptance of her move to sit with him. She was offering him comfort in the only way she knew how, and as her smaller hand slid over his he grasped it lightly, for a scant second, squeezing gently before releasing. A wordless thank you.

"I wish I could have given you better news this afternoon."

"It had to come out sooner or later."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be."

He felt his lips quirk at the familiarity of the situation. During the war they had been each others anchors in a world of rage and hate. He had sat with her like this on many occasions, drawing strength from the silence and knowledge that neither was truly alone.

She was the sister he had lost when he feel in love with Hinamori and came to realize it. And he was the support she needed, the sole male in her life that did not see blond hair and a chest size three times bigger than her hips. She looked at him and did not see the prodigy that had finally grown up; she saw a captain and a friend just as he saw a vice-captain and a friend.

They had drawn a fine line carefully in the sand, a line that had blurred during the war. It was visible in all the captains and vice-captains that had survived the war together; knowledge and understanding of each other's movements and decisions without the need for explanations. Captains had watched over their second-in-commands while vice-captains defended their captains with a brutal determination that had saved both in all divisions, more than once.

Partnerships had been formed, allies and friendships, the knowledge that someone was always there to guard your back. It still hung in the air between them. It would always be the silent reminder of a war they had almost lost, even as it lent them strength.

He sighed and stood, loath to leave the comfort of familiar ground, but he would have to face Hinamori sooner or later. Matsumoto stood with him and turned as he did towards the city, falling into the familiar step just behind him.

"What did you do with Hinamori?"

"Unohana took her this afternoon in order to do a physical. When Captain Ukitake disappeared, and then Captain Zaraki and I could sense Hyourinmaru, I realized what had to be going on and came to see if I could find you once I was free of my duties."

He nodded, each step that he took back to the city edging him further towards control.

"I didn't think I would need to bring a healer for you." She frowned at him, her eyes moving to his hand. "Did you break your fingers?" she demanded, eyeing his abused hand with disapproval.

He looked down at himself and blinked. He was covered in dirt, his cloak was bloodstained, he could only imagine how much of it was his, and his death god robes were ripped and torn in several places.

It seemed that a bit more damage had been done than he had realized.

"I didn't notice," he said finally, realizing that indeed, he had broken his index finger and had come close to breaking a few more by the discolored look of them.

She sighed. "Of course you didn't notice," she muttered. "We are going to the fourth division and we are doing it right now, Captain."

He heaved a sigh. This would probably be one of those things that she would not let him live down, most likely starting tomorrow.

He turned his gaze skyward, knowing as he did so that every step he took was one step closer to Hinamori and to the reality that the morning would bring with it. He closed his eyes briefly and this time when he sought the ice it flowed through him, returning to him as easily as it had abandoned him earlier. He would control his emotions. He would contain the raging fury. He _had_ to.

And so he allowed Matsumoto to steer him towards the fourth division while she muttered under her breath about the stubbornness and stupidity of captains. His lips quirked in amusement, Unohana would most likely have many things to say to him about his foolishness, and for involving Zaraki, but it would be worth it. Hyourinmaru was slumbering and control was his once more, however limited it was.

Perhaps he would send Yachiru a fruit basket in thanks as Zaraki would want nothing of the sort. Ukitake, he would simply thank. If he started to give the old captain food he would never break that silly habit of his of randomly giving him candy. Hitsugaya felt his eye twitch at the thought.

Tomorrow was a new day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author:** Robyn

**Story:** Awakenings

**Chapter:** Seven

**Authors Notes:** I am sorry that this took so long. To make a long story short: school. The next chapter is written and the one after that is almost written. Two more chapters.

Enjoy. 17 pages of goodness.

He turned slowly, his eyes searching the gloom for what he knew was hiding there. When he had first entered this landscape he had caught the briefest of glimpses of what he was chasing. He knew it was human; the flash of skin and delicate foot that he had only briefly spotted had given him that much information. But his prey was clever, quick to move, and quicker to find cover to hide behind when he came too close.

It had been some time since he had seen or heard anything, however, and he was starting to believe that he had lost them.

He turned at a crackle in the bush and reached for Hyourinmaru. He blinked in surprise when his hands grasped at nothing. He was sure that his sword had been strapped to his back earlier. There was a slight giggle and he hesitated only a moment before pushing through the leaves carefully. His footsteps fell silently on the earth beneath his feet. It was the quiet gasp and muffled exclamation that told him he had been discovered first, even as the sound of a body slipping through the branches caught his ear.

It was the soft sound of air displacing that told him that they were using Shunpo.

He followed.

He wasn't sure how long he chased his prey. He caught a few glimpses of a silhouette when the moonlight would occasionally cut through the night sky but he had no luck in getting any closer for all his feet were carrying him at his swiftest.

It was a girl, he was sure of it, but he couldn't seem to pinpoint who it was. The long dark hair waved behind her when she paused to see if he was still following and the sharp gasps for air could not come from a male throat.

He broke through the tree line and stopped at the sight of Hinamori standing on the edge of a large cliff. She was dressed in a sleeping yukata and her expression was grim as she watched him in return.

"You shouldn't have come for me," she said, shaking her head, her long hair dancing around her shoulders with her movement. "It's too late."

The moon broke through the clouds once more and she reached up to tuck a long strand of hair behind her ear. The serious expression on her face changed to one of mourning.

He took a step forward and she held up her hand. "It's too late Captain Hitsugaya." She said formally, "go back to your city. There is no place for you here."

He tried to move, tried to catch her as she walked backwards, her eyes never leaving his. But no command he issued could make her stop, and no silent order to his body could induce it to move.

She dropped off the cliff.

He sat up with a start, his fingers going to the scabbard at his side and curling around the hilt of his soul slayer.

'_It was a dream,'_ the deep voice echoed in his head, reassuring him. '_Just a dream.'_

He flopped back down onto his futon, reaching up to wipe at the sweat that had accumulated on his brow. His fingers remaining tightly curled around the hilt of his sword. He needed the comfort that the familiar grip provided him.

He didn't like dreams, had never held a fondness for his subconscious's late night revelations. Even the dreams that Hyourinmaru had sent him in order to help him understand what they would become had only strengthened his resolve to dislike his nightly visions.

Once he had dreamed of Hinamori's leaving to join the academy. It had been some weeks before she had actually left him, the thoughtful gleam in her eyes and distant look on her face at odd times of the day had told him a message all of their own, but it was his subconscious that had picked up on it first.

He had dreamed of his becoming a death god long before he became one. He had fought it, informing Hinamori he had no intentions of following _her_ to her stupid academy. Two weeks later he had walked through the doors, tired of her lack of letters and the realization that he was slowly losing his best friend. But mostly, he was just damn sick of the dreams.

He tossed a pillow over his head, his breathing quieting down as he started to relax. He would not overanalyze his subconscious tonight.

He needed to sleep. Dawn would be creaking over the sky in a few hours. He flexed his fingers and sighed when pain shot through them in a silent warning that they were not quite ready to be abused. He rolled back over to his side and closed his eyes, ignoring the pain that followed him through his movements.

He had to get some sleep.

He didn't remember drifting off to sleep. He did remember being woken up by his vice-captain's incessant knock and insistent urges that he get up because they had _things to do._ And so he found himself, barely awake, trudging across Seireitei, Matsumoto right behind him, to meet up with Captain Unohana, _again._

He scowled at the first person he saw at the fourth division, the guard at the entrance to headquarters. He was tired and he certainly couldn't be bothered to keep his expression neutral as he gave the necessary information to gain admittance at the odd hour.

He ignored the stiffness in his fingers and the way his head throbbed in protest at the early morning sunlight. He had been tended to by a lower ranking member of the division the night before, Unohana being unavailable, and while they had done their job quickly and efficiently the slower healing only added to his frustration.

He didn't mind submitting to whoever happened to be available, but he had not intended to walk into the fourth division so early in the morning, having hoped to gain at least an hour more of sleep.

A cheerful, humming Matsumoto only irritated him further.

He ignored the jumping division members and did his best to drown out his merry vice-captain. He wasn't sure what she had been drinking so early in the morning but he preferred the grumpy, non-morning Matsumoto to whatever incarnation of her present self she was attempting to be.

It was beyond him to inform _her_ how annoyed he was by her present display of happiness and so he found himself scowling at everyone else. He was both relieved and annoyed at the sight of Unohana waiting for them at the entrance to her office. He was certain that she would have tea at this early hour, something he wanted badly, and even more certain that Hinamori was resting behind those doors as well since Matsumoto had not brought her along this morning.

He frowned and mentally worked to reel in his frustration. It was his own fault he was suffering at this hour of the day thanks to the injuries he and Zaraki had inflicted upon themselves the night before. He sighed and forced a neutral expression to his face; this was why he normally kept a tight reign over his temper: the day after was always worse.

Hinamori was sitting on the couch in Unohana's office a cup of steaming tea cradled in her hands. She was pale but calm, and he didn't bother to register anything else. Unohana offered him a cup of tea and he accepted it gratefully, knowing that it was probably spiked with something. He briefly hoped that it held a remedy for his throbbing head.

If it didn't he would drink it anyway. It was tea and he had never needed a good cup of it in the morning more than he did at that moment.

Matsumoto settled neatly on the coach next to the smaller woman while he took the chair across from Unohana. Hinamori was sitting on the couch in Unohana's office, a cup of steaming tea cradled in her hands. She was pale but calm and he didn't bother to register anything else. The older woman smiled reassuringly before handing Matsumoto a cup as well. Once she made sure everyone was settled with a cup of tea in their hands, she began speaking.

"Well, Hinamori is making excellent progress," she said, her serene smile sliding into place. "I fully agree with the measures that you have taken to ensure her continued health." She smiled at Matsumoto. "Hinamori and I have discussed the type of things that she needs to continue to do to remain in good health. Rest, which she is getting, all the food she can eat, which she is being provided with exceptionably, and exercise."

She turned her gaze to him. "Now, I have heard that Renji has offered to let her spar with him in order to regain her muscle and to help her build her strength back up."

He nodded. "That is correct."

She smiled in satisfaction. "Good, now I have taken the liberty of drawing up an exercise chart for Hinamori. Some of these things are for Hinamori and some are for Renji." She rifled neatly through her desk, pulling out a sheath of papers. "He agreed to meet with me later this afternoon, but nevertheless, you should be aware of the things he will be working with her on."

He accepted the papers she handed him, quickly glancing at the guidelines that Unohana had set up for the Hinamori. He nodded.

"This is manageable," he agreed, before passing it along to Matsumoto so that Hinamori could look at it. The girl had her eyes down and looked for all the world that she did not want to be there. He sighed internally before turning back to Unohana.

"Anything else?" he questioned.

The older woman shook her head. "Her check up this morning went as well as I had hoped that it would." She cast a warm smile towards Hinamori, who was fidgeting in her seat. "I would like to check up with her in a few more days if you don't mind bringing her in."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

She nodded and Hinamori stood with Matsumoto. The two headed out the door carefully, one behind the other, but Unohana stopped him before he could turn to follow.

Keep an eye on her energy levels. If they become too low it could cause a relapse." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "They should also give you a clear picture of her mental stability."

That made sense; Hinamori would not be able to control her reiatsu levels any more than a green recruit would have been able to in her current state of health. By watching how fast and how quickly the individual levels rose and fell he would have a pretty clear picture of what her mental state was. At least that was the idea in theory. Right now Hinamori did not have much to her reiatsu at the given time. Her energy levels were just too low and it took time and care to rebuild one's reiatsu levels once they reached a certain point. Hinamori had long ago passed the point where a few weeks rest would help her reach her full potential once again, it would conceivably take months before she was back to her full level of strength. Her body, on the other hand, could take longer depending on whether or not she was going to let herself heal properly.

He nodded. "Thank you."

She nodded graciously and he followed the two women making a quick exit for the door. He trailed after them at a much slower pace; the tea had done wonders to relieve his headache and the itching in his fingers was starting to fade as the healing spell continued to do its work. The young healer had placed a time spell on the broken bones to ensure that it healed to the best of its ability. During the war he had broken the bones in his hands and fingers several times. The quick healing jobs that had been required at the time had left him with rough palms and large knuckles. The slower healing would prevent this. He had not cared either way; hands were hands and they were generally abused in their world.

Soul slayers were never very gentle on their owner's hands and while the taming of Hyourinmaru had not damaged his palms or fingers, Hinamori's still bore the marks of the fire that had first licked at the delicate skin around her fingers. It had long ago healed and she had mastered the flames of her soul easily, but always there was a mark of some sort that most of the recruits bore directly after their first encounter with the world that belonged to their soul slayer.

Those that never gained that understanding of their soul slayer were both blessed and cursed.

He had dreamed of ice for months and would often wake freezing until he had reached the level of control and mastery that had been expected from his soul slayer. Some days he wondered what inner torment Ichigo had been forced to deal with after he had gained Zangestu's name. Or perhaps he had been spared such an ordeal because of the speed and determination that had been necessary to rescue Rukia from the executioners block.

Some part of him wondered if perhaps that had not been his trial, that the knowledge that he would lose his friend if he didn't get strong fast enough. But he had never asked Ichigo, and he doubted he ever would.

Renji walked out of the early morning gloom, Zabimaru at his side and Tobiume in his left hand. The red headed man smiled at the three of them.

"Hinamori, are you ready?" he questioned.

She blinked and looked between him and Renji carefully. "You want to go now?" she said slowly, her attention directed towards the red-headed man in front of them.

He wondered if she would refuse. Hinamori had not touched her soul slayer since she had awoken and he was not entirely sure why. His theories were made of a half completed analysis of the division members who had gone through the same trial. There were so few things that could cause the slayer to refuse to manifest but he had no doubts that the sword was itching to be back in her partner's hands. He could practically feel the slayer's silent call to Hinamori; the air was thick with it.

It was a testament to her own nerves that she didn't seem to hear Tobiume's cry.

"No better time than the present," he agreed. "My division has training in a couple of hours and so I have the time we need to get a good start on this mornings exercises."

"Fine." She turned her attention back to him, her hesitancy clearly visible.

Her eyes rose and he met her blank gaze. She was not prepared for it this. But if they did not get her sword back in her hands and going through the motions soon, she might never step forward on her own again.

They couldn't let that happen. He had no intention of _letting_ it happen.

"I will send Matsumoto to get you in an hour or so," he informed her carefully, watching her expression. She nodded in return, her eyes filling with uncertainty for a moment, before she turned to follow Renji into the fog that still hung over the city.

Matsumoto turned to him, one brow rising. "Renji?"

"He offered," he said, turning back in the direction of their division. It was not a typical paperwork day but there was enough to be done that they would have to settle in and get to work for the next hour or so.

"Why?"

He shot her an irritated glance. "Because he wanted to I would imagine."

"She can get the work-out she needs in our division, she's part of it now," Matsumoto insisted, her tone unhappy at the idea of her division member going anywhere else.

He continued to push forward, ignoring the mixture of amusement and annoyance that her observations brought. It was true; they had plenty of people in their division who would have been more than willing to work with Hinamori to bring her back up to her full potential, him and Matsumoto especially.

And yet he wasn't entirely sure that Hinamori was ready or willing to join the world that they had worked so hard to prepare for her. She was not yet healed, and while he would have loved to keep the girl in his division and away from everyone else until she was ready to move out on her own again, he couldn't. She needed the contact with others, needed to know that outside her small world right then, there were those who _cared_.

And so when Abarai had approached him earlier that week with Captain Ukitate and Captain Kyouraku in his wake with the offer to help Hinamori physically retrain herself he had found himself agreeing. They had a very valid point in using Abarai to help her regain her footing. They had gone through training together and getting her out of the tenth division and back in familiar territory for a few hours a week would probably do her more good than harm.

He was willing to try if they were.

"Yes," he agreed.

Matsumoto persisted. "Why then?"

He sighed. "Because he wanted to."

Her muttering under breath was almost the bright point of amusement that had been missing for the majority of the morning. "Did you tell Hinamori anything before you sent her off to spar with him?"

"She was with him when he asked." She had been hiding behind Ukitate's larger form and he could have sensed her hesitation and uncertainty from miles off. It had taken him the better part of the morning to realize it was the thought of picking up Tobiume, not the physical training that terrified her.

There was a long moment of silence. "When did they bring this up?"

"When she was loading boxes and you were off muttering about food." His tone reflected the annoyance that was building back up at her continued questions.

Again the silence and he could practically hear her debating her next question. "And you didn't mention this to me?"

He stopped and turned to look at her, one brow rising high. "I am supposed to inform you of my every decision now, Matsumoto?" This time he _was_ annoyed.

She huffed and he turned to continue the walk back to their offices. It took a good twenty minutes to walk to and from unless you were using _shunpo_, but that was reserved for dire emergencies.

It just wasn't dignified to do anything besides walk.

By the time they reached the office Matsumoto's annoyed silence gave way to disgruntlement at the realization that she had walked right into the paperwork that he had waiting for her and at this early of an hour she didn't have a convenient enough of an excuse to get out of the work.

"Captain," Matsumoto said some time later, pulling his attention away from his paperwork.

"What?"

"I need a pen."

He turned narrowed eyes to the innocent expression on her face before motioning to the full pen cup on the corner of his desk. "Then get one."

Again the pause that guaranteed that she was doing her best to think of something that was going to drive him to an early grave. "Why don't I have a sparkly pen cup?"

He closed his eyes taking a deep breath to stave off his frustration. "Matsumoto, if you want the sparkly pen cup I will switch with you."

"But wasn't it a gift from Hinamori?"

He would not grit his teeth; it was beneath a captain to give into such an expression of frustration. "Matsumoto," he said once he had regained a modicum of control, his tone icy. "If you want a pen, _get_ one."

He heard the scrape of her chair as she sauntered over to his desk in front of the pen cup. "Grumpy this morning aren't we?" she muttered lowly, snagging a bright pink pen from his desk and then sashaying back to her desk.

He relaxed once the scribble of her writing was heard a few moments later.

It didn't take her long to break the silence. "Would this be a bad time to ask for a favor?"

He set his pen down, again, with a sigh. "What is it this time?"

"I was wondering if you would mind staying with Hinamori tonight for a couple of hours."

He blinked before shifting some of the paperwork on his desk to another pile to buy himself some time to think about her answer before he turned to give her his full attention once again. "That shouldn't be a problem." He paused. "Why?"

She smiled winningly. "Tonight is the night that Shuuhei, Renji, Ikkaku, Iba and I planned to go out and share the fond memories of the past. In all honestly, I really didn't think that you would want Hinamori visiting the places we're going to in her current condition."

"You're going out to get drunk?" That didn't surprise him a bit.

She shook her head. "Captain," she said with a sigh. "How could you even think such a thing?"

He sighed, shooting her a disapproving glance. "You're expected to report at the normal time tomorrow," he warned.

She beamed. "Of course."

"And where do you plan on Hinamori staying?" He knew them and their little 'get-togethers' well, and he was certain that Matsumoto would not be returning at a normal hour that night. Most of their all-night shenanigans ended up with her passed out at some random person's place or out cold on the couch in the office when he walked in the morning.

Matsumoto beamed. "I know she has stayed with you in the past," she scolded. "Don't act like you will be corrupted by having her in the same room with you."

He frowned darkly. "Matsumoto," he warned.

She sighed. "Nanao is more than willing to drop by and stay with her if you would like her to."

He nodded. "Fine." He went back to his paperwork.

"I think I lost my pen."

He couldn't stop his growl of frustration then.

-

He watched her as she ate. Slow, methodical bites that carefully took stock of what was going in her mouth, but her expression never changed. He looked down at his own plate and silently wondered if perhaps his cooking was really that bad. Matsumoto never complained.

The first bite proved that perhaps he was not as bad a cook as he was wondering. He shifted his gaze back towards her, which meant that it was something else. He observed her vigilantly between his own bites of food. Matsumoto had dropped her off an hour or so before and he had been cooking dinner for the two of them. He was both tired of the cafeteria food they offered in mass quantities and certain that they wouldn't have what food Hinamori needed to maintain her special diet.

She was tense, he realized. Her fingers were gripping her chopsticks a bit tighter than normal and her eyes were narrowed slightly, small lines showing around the corners.

Was she afraid of him now?

He didn't think it was that, her reiatsu was calm if a bit weary. So it was something else, he looked down at his own plate and quickly set to eating. If he did anything but act normal around her he was almost certain that she would flee from the room. Now that he knew what to look for it was obvious. Her feet were shifting ever so slightly and her other hand was opening and closing slowly.

It looked like it was indeed going to be a long evening.

"Is everything alright?" He broke the silence once he was certain she had had time to try everything on her plate. There had been a time when she would have teased him over his cooking and gone to great lengths to playfully try each bite to see if he was going to poison them.

Now he simply got a nod.

He continued to watch her carefully through her silence. He had not been expecting this. Anger, denial, or silent warnings had become normal for her. Not this unending quiet… he didn't know what to make of it.

"Would you like some more tea?" he asked a few minutes later. He was not sure how to break this silence nor was he sure why he felt the need to do so. He was certain that he needed to bring her out of her shell. Part of him realized that the dream was still bothering him, sitting behind his eyes so that each time he closed them the sight of her dropping from the cliff haunted his footsteps. And part of him knew that he was now her captain as much as her friend and they _needed_ a relationship of sort.

It was like starting all over again.

She shook her head, still silent.

So they were playing that game, he realized. He frowned and covered the motion by standing to get himself something else to drink. At this rate he was almost certain they were nothing more than long lost acquaintances who made the mistake of meeting up for dinner and sitting together with nothing to say.

Dinner progressed. And so did the silence.

He found himself washing the pots and pans he had used while she dried in the tense silence some time later. He wasn't sure when or how they had reached this point. Both of them too wary of the other one to really talk; it was strange to him to be the ice breaker. He had tried. She had looked up with those wounded eyes of hers and blinked before either shaking her head or giving him a half-hearted smile.

He hated it.

He glanced at the ornate clock that hung just above the fireplace in his living room. They had some time to go before he would feel comfortable taking her back to her rooms.

He found himself proposing a game of chess to pass the time.

She had looked up in surprise and he had let an eyebrow rise in challenge. She had hesitantly nodded. He watched her as she watched him put the chess game together. She was white, simply because he could remember the many arguments they had had over the years of their chess playing; she had won them all. He didn't think she would argue with him tonight over who should be white and who should be black. He didn't want to find out if she wouldn't, didn't want to know what he would do if she wouldn't.

She moved and he followed. He loved to watch her play chess. She was so careful in her movements, each thought and placement carefully thought out. It was such a difference from her once normal, cheerful demeanor.

It had been over a game of chess that he had realized how good of a vice-captain she had to be in the field. He beat her every time, but she knew what she was doing. She had good strategies that carried her through the game well, and if he had not had the understanding of the board that he carried she could have beaten him.

As it was, he enjoyed playing her. Enjoyed the way she would bite on her lip in concentration as her eyes narrowed in thought. More often than not she would fiddle with her hair when she wasn't sure of her next move. He loved to watch the way her eyes would light up when she was convinced she had managed to find a way past his defenses.

Tonight she was growling at him in both frustration and amusement as he countered each of her moves with ease. She was rusty at this game but she was making a sort of noise now so it was an improvement. He had, at this point, captured several of her pawns and one of her knights.

She had two of his pawns and a castle that he had sacrificed for the greater good.

Three more moves and he would have her queen captured and be in checkmate position. She hadn't spotted his plot yet or the path he was using to get to her queen, but he had confidence that she would. Everything she needed was just lying in her mind waiting for her to wake and recognize it.

She was chewing on her bottom lip again, a motion that told him just how nervous she was to be in his presence and to be sitting playing this game with him. There had been a day once when they would spend hours with her trying to counter his movements and him teaching her new little tricks and methods in the game of chess so that when she played her own captain she would not be completely clueless against his strategies.

Now things were different. It hung between them like a heavy cloak over their shoulders. When she should have been muttering darkly under her breath and he should have been teasing her mercilessly at her lack of skill, they were quiet. The only noise between them her quiet growls of frustration.

"How did your afternoon with Renji go?" he questioned, even as he moved a pawn where he wanted it to go. For one who was known for his ability to remain quiet for hours on end he could no longer handle this silence between them.

She looked up, startled by the sound of his voice. She was struggling to maintain her calm composure; it was in the shifting of her arms in nervous anticipation and the quiet hesitation that continued to fill the space between them.

"It went alright," she finally said, her voice soft.

He nodded, watching as she shifted her knight to counter his attack on her queen. He kept his expression under a tight wrap; she had fallen right into his trap. He moved his bishop before looking up to see if she had yet caught onto the fact that her queen and king were in imminent danger.

She didn't, instead she frowned at the board, her gaze distant, and he wondered if she saw the chess pieces at all.

"What did you do?" It seemed like he was going to have to play that ridiculous twenty question game Kuchiki Rukia adored during their school days in the living world.

She blinked and looked up at him. "You saw the list," she mumbled.

He shook his head. "Hinamori I may have seen what Unohana recommended but I still want to know what you did, if you think it was helping, how you feel about it, and if you think you should continue or not."

She watched him for several moments. "Because you're my captain?"

He blinked at her for several moments, caught off guard by her words. Was _that_ what was bothering her? "Because you're my friend," he said, carefully slipping his bishop into place and capturing her queen. She didn't notice, too busy watching him as he continued to think about her question. "If I was asking as your captain I would have called you into my office."

He watched her idly move a pawn and sighed; he had lost her. "Checkmate," he said a few moments later. She looked up, startled, and frowned. His lips curved upwards and she blinked before turning her attention back to the board.

"When did you… how did I…?" She paused and her frown deepened. Her fingers flitted to the chess board and started to rearrange the pieces. He watched in fascination as she continued to shuffle the board until it was back to the beginning state. She moved her first pawn the frowned up at him as if daring him to refuse to continue.

He reached forward and mimicked her move. She nodded and then turned her gaze to the board, a crease forming on her brow. He curled his fingers into a ball in his lap to help repress the sudden urge to reach out and smooth the lines of her brow.

They ended up playing three more games. He won them all, but she gained ground with each of them. By the end of it she was blinking slowly as she tried to keep her eyes open. He captured her queen again and she sighed in frustration.

He stood. "I think I should escort you to your rooms and see if Nanao is there yet," he said.

She blinked up at him and his lips curved at the small pout that flitted across her features, a welcome reminder of the woman who was hiding beneath the veneer she still held to herself like a mantle. She sighed.

"All right," she muttered.

It was a quiet walk back to her and Matsumoto's rooms, though thankfully not a long walk. The air between them that had once been so tense had lightened during their chess matches, but it was creeping back in. He watched as her shoulders started to slump once more and her footsteps falter. He held back his own sigh; she was losing confidence in herself with each new step. Why?

She walked in into the rooms and he relaxed at the sight of Nanao sitting next to fire in defense against the chill of the night air.

"I will bring breakfast in the morning," he said with a slight smile. "I am sure Matsumoto won't be in any shape to get anything ready in the morning." It was unspoken that Hinamori hated to cook with a passion. "And I have some things I need to go over with you."

She nodded. "Thank you for dinner."

"I will see you in the morning."

She nodded again and he gave Vice-Captain Nanao a small nod of thanks. Her lips quirked up in a smile before her gaze turned back to her book.

He offered Hinamori one more nod before turning and heading towards his quarters to seek his own rest.

-

He was waiting for them to wake early the next morning. There was a small shop just inside the square and it was one of Matsumoto's favorite places to go and snag breakfast if she had time. They had these little sausages wrapped in cheese and then breaded and he had watched her on more than one occasion down an entire box.

He knocked on the door quietly in case Hinamori was still sleeping, and had walked in after the muffled grunt that had wavered through the door. He was always amused by the early morning version of Matsumoto; her normal grace failed her until she had a cup of tea in her hands. More often than not her hair was not co-operating with her just yet and she grunted to communicate with anyone or anything that was in front of her for the first hour after waking.

Fortunately, waking her wasn't the problem; it was getting her to respond to anything beyond her grunts that was challenge in the early hours of the morning.

He hid the amusement that threatened to spill out at the way her eyes widened in appreciation at the sight of the box that he was offering her. He handed her the box and motioned for her to have a seat. He knew his way around her kitchen well enough to know she wouldn't have much stocked except for what she needed for the day… and tea.

Tea he could handle.

He had just finished with the tea when a sleepy and disgruntled Hinamori walked through the door. She was still in her sleeping yukata, her hair flowing in masses of waves around her head as she stumbled in, still half asleep.

Where Matsumoto simply reeked groggy annoyance in the morning, Hinamori was sleepy innocence. He watched her, a fond smile playing at the corner of his mouth at the way she rubbed at her eyes and then tucked her hair behind her ears, her expression half-exasperated and half-asleep at the early hour.

It was perhaps the cutest expression he had seen on her in a long time.

She didn't notice him and so he turned his attention back to the tea. It wouldn't do for her to look up and catch the amused expression in his eyes. She might have looked cuter than Matsumoto in the mornings, but she was every bit as violent.

"Good morning," he said. He heard the small gap in her footsteps as she registered his presence before she seemed to gather herself and move to the table. He got down another cup as Matsumoto grunted and the sound of a box sliding across the table broke through the quiet of the morning.

He turned and handed the two women their tea, both pulled their cups closer and bent over them like the lost homeless children he sometimes saw in the living world, before reaching for another roll in unison, their expressions never changing as they inhaled the box as quickly as they could chew.

He was suddenly quite glad that he had gotten more than one box or he was certain he would lose a finger or more to the women. He knew Matsumoto could and generally did eat her weight in food in the mornings, but it had been a long time since Hinamori had joined him for breakfast for him to remember her eating habits entirely.

He sat at the table, pulled some of the papers he had brought with him to his side, opened his box, and settled in to wait until the girls discovered they had eaten their food and went after his.

It didn't take long. The made quick work of their box and then fingers were sliding over the side and snagging another roll. He looked up and quirked a brow in question at Matsumoto, who just shrugged. He sighed and went back to his papers, his lips twitching when a smaller hand slid into the box and curled around two of the rolls and then slid out with a silent sneakiness that could only belong to Hinamori. Matsumoto simply did not have the inclination to be that sly so early in the morning. He looked up; she blinked at him once, shrugged, and bit into one of the rolls she had stolen.

He was going to have to get more breakfast before going to the office.

When Matsumoto reached back over a moment later he gave up and pushed the box towards them with a disgruntled expression. Next time he was buying bagels as well. Neither of the women would eat the bagels. Hinamori preferred them as an afternoon snack and Matsumoto _hated_ bagels.

They had finished off the rolls and were leaning back in their chairs, sipping the now cooled tea when he finally broke the silence.

"It's going to snow today."

Matsumoto looked outside her brows lowering. "When?"

"This afternoon most likely, early evening at the latest."

Hinamori blinked, her brows furrowing. "How can you tell?"

His expression turned thoughtful at her words. He had started to be able to judge the weather more accurately during the war. He had always been able to sense the day's general weather but as his bond with Hyourinmaru had strengthened and he had started to grow more into his potential he had started to sense and see things about the weather he had never seen before. Sometimes days ahead of time.

This morning he had woken to the fresh smell of approaching snow.

"I can smell it," he answered finally, watching as her brows lowered further in thought. Well, at least she wasn't giving him the look that Soi Fong had when he had mentioned that little fact within her hearing range.

"Oh," was all she said, turning her attention back to her tea.

He took her distraction as an opportunity to examine her a bit closer. She looked well rested and her expression was not as annoyed as it had been the day before.

"Are either of you going to tell me what happened?" Hinamori questioned, looking up from her cup, brows rising in question.

"What do you mean?" Matsumoto said.

She looked hesitant, her gaze moving between them both before she spoke up, "Hitsugaya's reiatsu was a little hard to miss," she said finally. "Even in my current condition."

He surprised himself with the grunt that emerged from his lips. He watched as her eyes widened before a small smile quirked at her mouth and then it was gone. "It's not important right now," he finally said.

She blinked and frowned.

He sighed before drinking the last of his tea and setting his cup down on the table and then standing. He watched when she frowned further, her brows tucking together with her displeasure at his evasive answer.

It took her a moment to gain her courage. And then even as one brow rose to show his displeasure at being questioned she spoke up. "Why?" Her voice soft but firm, an unhappy expression remaining on her face.

"Zaraki and I had a talk," he conceded, before turning his attention to Matsumoto. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she grumbled and crossed her arms in annoyance. "I have a captains meeting later this afternoon," he said, pulling the final pieces of paperwork into a pile. "The snow will probably hit some time late this afternoon. There are some things I need delivered before then."

Matsumoto nodded.

"Take Hinamori with you, that way you can show her the changes that the renovations made on the city."

This time both women nodded.

He stood. "I need to prepare some things before this afternoon." He quirked a brow at them. "Do you think you can make it to the office in an hour or so?"

The women exchanged glances and then Matsumoto grunted in agreement.

He shook his head in mild amusement before turning. "I will see you then," he said agreeably, walking out the door before either could grunt in disagreement. Some days, working _around _Matsumoto was the wiser choice.

Things seemed to be going well. Hinamori seemed to be much more relaxed around Matsumoto and small peeks of who she was hiding beneath her fear and uncertainty were starting to become more frequent.

If only he could shake the feeling that there was something else stirring underneath the surface.

Something that hung just out of sight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Notes: **I have returned from camp and I SURVIVED. YAY! Here is the long awaited chapter – so sorry it took me so long to get it put up. I have combed over this with my beta though there were several additions and adjustments that she had not gone over so if there are any mistakes – it falls on my head not hers. Instead of waiting though, I figured that you all would like to see the chapter now!

There is one more chapter after this – in which all questions are answered and the end will come.

Enjoy everyone! And thank you so much for your patience!

Big thanks to Brittany for her help with this!

---

The snow, when it came, did so hard and fast. It was not the gentle first snow that bathed the land in a white blanket that they would skip over for a few days as it slowly melted away. He looked out the window of the tenth division office and sighed. It was a white-out, plan and simple.

Hyourinmaru at least was pleased with the weather. The dragon had been humming in the back of his mind ever since the clouds and started building over the city and the cold wind had begun to hum through the city streets.

Winter, it seemed, had finally arrived.

He would attribute this as being the reason that Matsumoto and Hinamori were hiding in the tenth division office, playing a card game that Ichigo had taught them, instead of completing the numerous errands that he had given them earlier that morning. He watched them in amusement before turning his attention back to the paperwork in front of him. It had not been his plan to work on the paperwork that had been building up on his desk for the last several days but the current weather conditions did not encourage anyone to travel outside needlessly.

Hyourinmaru was stirring; the need for the ice dragon to be out and among the elements sending the calm that the normal routine of paperwork and the quite of his office brought far from him. His eyes narrowed as Hyourinmaru once more made known his need to be out in the current weather, he glanced at the two who were quite comfortably settled next to the fire. It appeared that they had no intention to go anywhere outside the reach of the fire's warmth. Both girls had drawn up serious expressions as they took turns staring at their cards and then staring at each other.

He stood. "I will return," he walked across the room and pulled a scarf from the coat rack that Matsumoto had set up shortly after the first snow flakes had started to fall. The majority of his division had made it in before the storm but there were still some teams that he had not heard from. It was perhaps unnecessary to check on the incoming teams but it would at least give the dragon a chance to be out in the cold, and perhaps it would give him a chance to relax.

He slid Hyourinmaru into place on his back; he would need the added assistance as hard as the elements were blowing outside. The girls ignored him, concentrating on their cards. He felt his brow twitch up at their continual silence, he would figure out how to make them do their paperwork when he returned.

It was _cold_ and dark; the thick clouds blocking the majority of the light from the sky while the bitterly cold wind tossed snow and ice in large harsh tufts of air that send his captains cloak billowing about his legs. He brought the scarf up to wrap around his mouth and nose to aid his breathing as he continued to walk down the path, using his mental map of the place to guide him through the storm.

The storm, it seemed, was intensifying and he hopped that his messages had gotten through to the teams that were out earlier that morning. The walk towards the barracks took him longer than usual but his knock was answered quickly and he was ushered into the warm rooms by the officer on duty.

"Captain," he said, Hitsugaya slipped to the side so that he could shut the door behind him.

"Did everyone check in?"

The tall man shook his head, "we still have one team out. They are not yet overdue but I was hoping that they would check in before now." He admitted moving through the room and to the stove; he poured a cup of tea before offering it to Hitsugaya. He accepted with a nod.

"What is their report in time?"

Kimishima checked the clock on the wall, "an hour."

He nodded, eyes narrowing in thought. "What section were they assigned to?" He took a careful sip of his tea, before moving across the floor to join the man at the table in the main hallway. Kimishima had been the third seated member of his division for some time now and he was quick and efficient, something he could appreciate.

The man frowned, "let me check, Captain." He moved to a group files in a small bin on the wall, "we had several teams out and Maika's team was stationed at the east quadrant."

"Maika was leading them?"

He nodded before pulling out the file and frowned, "Captain," he said, "they were stationed near the ridge," he flipped through the file, "there was a bit of activity in that area recently." He pulled out a map and pointed at the area that he was all too familiar with. "Several unexplained disappearances. They were going to investigate that area before the storm hit."

He sat his tea down and looked at the map carefully for a moment before turning back towards the door.

"Do you want anyone to come with you?"

"I will bring them in," he said, "send a message to Matsumoto and have the fourth division on stand-by."

He didn't give the man time to respond, dark was going to hit in another couple of hours and if they were not in before the sun went down, even their death god bodies might not survive very well in the weather conditions that would only become worse after dark. The snow was starting to ease up the initial furry of the storm abating as time slowly creped by. The intensity that it had been promising was dying off.

He stopped to examine the sky, his eyes narrowing. The storm was dissipating too quickly, unnaturally. The storm should have continued for another couple of hours. Something was affecting it. He turned in the direction of the ridge; s_hunpo_ would take him out of the city gates and as far as their rendezvous point, fast, which was what he needed. After that he would need to use his natural leg speed to take him through the area or he risked missing them entirely.

It didn't take him long to find where they were supposed to be. The further his flash-steps took him from the seireitei the less snow there was for him to fight through and the clearer his vision became. And the more the weather teased at his senses as _wrong_.

He sensed Maika first. As the holder of the fifth seat of their division she had a strong reiatsu signature. His steps increased to his full speed when it became obvious something was wrong.

It was weaker than it should have been but steady and it didn't take him long to locate her exact location. He pulled out of the _shunpo_, stopping beside her neatly. She was huddled in a small ball in an indention between two boulders her arms wrapped around her as she clutched her soul slayer close, trying to keep warm, he realized. He frowned at the pink tint of the ice and snow behind her, she was bleeding.

"Maika," he said, kneeling beside her, his fingers moving to her throat to check her pulse point. Hr eyes fluttered open, and he frowned at the disoriented look in them.

"Ca…ca…captain?" she managed, blinking at him in confusion.

Her pulse was steady but she was cold, much to cold for his liking. "How long have you been here?" She shivered, pulling herself further into a sitting position, his eyes narrowed, stay put. What happened?"

She licked her lips, "there was a hollow…" she frowned, "more than one, I think. It… they… used the snow and ice as cover and we didn't see or sense it until it was too late." She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing in determination, "he took some of the younger ones to the ravine about ten or twenty minutes ago, Keita went after them after he brought me here."

He unclasped Hyourinmaru and shuffled his captain's cloak from his back, draping it over her shivering form, it would offer her a bit more warmth and camouflage in the current weather conditions. "Matsumoto is headed this direction," he could sense her fast approaching reiatsu with ease, "Can you make it?"

She nodded, "I packed the gash with snow, it's not bleeding right now," she said, she looked up with worried eyes. "Captain the hollow uses ice and snow," she shivered violently, her fingers tightening on the hilt of her sword and he frowned.

"Don't trouble your self with it," he said, "Matsumoto will be here soon." He shifted Hyourinmaru back into place and stood. "Stay here," he ordered before heading back into the cold night air.

What type of hollow had any sort of control over the weather? Hyourinmaru rumbled and he felt his eyes narrow in agreement. Matsumoto would find Maika and would figure out her own plan from the information that the girl would give her. His objective now was to find his tenth seat and team.

It didn't take him long to find the hollow. The air reeked with the hollow's stink and higher than average reiatsu signature. He frowned. There were a few wavering flickers of reiatsu within its lair which meant that at least part of the missing team was within. But so was the hollow. His lips thinned in annoyance. While not unexpected this was going to add to the difficulty of extracting the death gods within.

He moved forward. The hollow was laughing at something or someone inside, his brow furrowed in annoyance. He hated hollows. He unsheathed softly using the soft sound of the hollow's footsteps to help disguise the slight sound.

He crept forward.

The hollow receded in a cave that was covered in the ice and snow that was still falling gently outside. The cave was narrow but tall and there were deep grooves cut into various areas of the rock, grooves he assumed the hollow had made to make travel a little easier. Finding the hollow, at least, was the easy part. The cave had only one pathway and it quickly opened up into a dimly lit cavern.

It was a big ugly thing with a wide open mask and tall thin body. It also held one of the newer trainees in his hand. The rest appeared to be thrown about in a small sheltered area, the sharp scream of the girl brought his full attention to the hollow.

It seemed it liked to play with its food, his eyes narrowed, and Hyourinmaru thrummed in his hand as he used _shunpo_ to carry him across the room. The hollow was not expecting anyone to interrupt his game and he was able to catch it off guard, using a quick downward slice removed the hollows hand with neat precision, it bellowed in both surprise and pain. He used the nearby wall to flip himself backwards in time to stop the downward thrust of the hollows other hand which was moving downwards to catch the falling death god.

It screamed in rage when it met the steel of his blade.

"Little death god," it hissed moving backwards on agile feet. "You dare interrupt my meal?"

A quick glance indicated that the girl, he couldn't remember her name right then, was still alive. She rolled weakly out of the severed hand coughing. He turned his attention back to the hollow in front of him. It was gathering its powers to him, ice was forming on the sides of his hands and he moved forward as it launched its hasty attack. He barely managed to scoop the stunned girl from the floor, stumbling briefly as he adjusted to the added weight of her limp body. The ice was snapping at his heels as he threw them behind one of the rock formations.

The recruit was staring up at him with wide eyes as he sat her down, "Stay here," he ordered.

He turned, bringing Hyourinmaru around and back out from behind the rocks. The hollow was waiting for him; he brought his sword up and gritted his teeth at the feel of ice sliding across his skin. It didn't last more than a few seconds, his own natural resistance to the ice and his reiatsu staving off the majority of the attack.

"No one interrupts my meal."

Again he brought his sword up, using the flash-steps once more to bring him near the hollow, Hyourinmaru humming through the air as he flipped neatly over the Hollow and bringing his soul slayer down into the mask of the hollow. The clang of his sword slamming into the hollow and being reflected startled him, he landed with startled eyes, turning to face the hollow and ignoring the unpleasant tingling in his hands.

The hollow laughed.

He landed on his feet, sliding neatly across the floor and finally coming to a halt several feet away from the creature.

"Silly death god, your sword can not slice through my mask." Hitsugaya let one brow rise in a silent question; the hollow did not disappoint him. "I was gifted with the gift of the elements," he rasped, "by the great father. Because of this I have an extra layer of protection, and no silly soul slayer can cut through the armor of my mask."

He brought Hyourinmaru up once more, the hollow giggled, "Try again; it will be to your death this time."

He let his reiatsu expand; jumping into the air above the hollow. He had no time for such games, those that were hurt would need quick attention and Matsumoto would not allow the fourth division in until she was certain the hollow was taken care of. "Sit upon the frozen heavens," he called to Hyourinmaru, letting his annoyance fill his voice. He would finish this now, "_Hyourinmaru_."

The graceful dragon erupted from his sword and great volumes of ice circled around his body, a shield of ice and snow, before it turned its attention to the hollow below them both. He pointed the tip of his sword at the creature. The hollow's eyes widened but that was all he had time to do before Hyourinmaru was upon him.

The hollow might have held resistance to the cold and a bit of control of the weather by Hyourinmaru sliced through the creature with ease. It had enough time for one scream of rage before it was dissipating and he was sheathing his sword. There were no signs that there were anymore in the area and he needed to check on those the hollow had captured.

The girl he had aided was settled against the rock but she was alert and now that she had time to get over her shock, she appeared to be none worse for the ware. A few light scratches but otherwise fine. He turned at the sound of footsteps and Matsumoto walked into view, Haineko held firmly in one hand. He descended in front of the girl who followed a bit slower, "there are three more there," he said angling his head in the general direction.

She nodded, "there are healers waiting outside as well."

"I will send them in," he said before disappearing from her view. Matsumoto would take care of the girl and ensure that those who were behind the rocks knew that they were safe before the medical unit would arrive. His job here, at least for now, was done. At his appearance the healers swarmed the cave with lights and medical kits and it did not take them long to arrange those who needed to be carried out on stretchers and bandage up those who needed the extra care.

It was some minutes later when he was finally able to catch up with Matsumoto. Maika?" he questioned.

"She is already back at the city, she had a nasty wound to her back and claw marks along her throat but she didn't loose as much blood as she should have thanks to Keita's quick thinking."

He nodded, his brows furrowing as he looked up at the feel of a rain droplet hitting his shoulder.

"Rain?" Matsumoto murmured, her expression turning confused quickly as the gentle snow quickly became sleet.

"The hollow was controlling the weather. This storm was most likely supposed to be rain, now that its influence is no longer pushing it to heights it did not originally intend its reverting back to its natural state."

"How long do you think it was here?"

"Most likely, a week or so," he said as the last of his division members were shifted to cots and blankets thrown over them to combat the cold, he started walking, Matsumoto following at her normal pace behind him.

"So it's going to rain?"

He nodded, "It will turn to ice quick enough."

The walk back was silent after that. The storm clouds above were boiling in reaction to the loss of the controlling power and as they tried to right themselves lightening was crashing in quick bursts over head, while rain and sleet slapped their heads and unprotected bodies continuously.

Unnatural as it felt it was going to be another large storm once it calmed itself. The winter weather and harsh spring storm clashing was the result of the hollows interference, whichever won out would most likely swamp the city with either ice or rain. He quickened his steps.

They needed to beat the storm back.

---

The storm broke just before they reached the division headquarters. The rain came in fast, freezing torrents that sent everyone, including the fourth division, scuttling for cover. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto made quick work of the distance between the gates and their office; they needed to write up the report and check on Hinamori as soon as possible. They both walked into the silent room and froze, Hitsugaya turning to his vice captain after a few stunned moments.

"Where is she?"

The fire had long ago gone out, smoldering embers all that remained of the once blazing fire, the candle having burnt itself out. He walked to Hinamori's tea cup and placed a tentative finger on the lip. Freezing. She must have left some time ago.

Matsumoto blinked. "I left her here," she said slowly, her brows furrowing. "Maybe she went to bed?"

"Go check," he said. "I will go see if Unohana came by and took her somewhere else."

He didn't give her time to answer, moving through the door before she had time to react. It was force of will that kept his footsteps calm and far away from the _shunpo_ that he wanted to fall into. He had had enough foresight to grab an umbrella, and he moved carefully through the torrential downfall of sleet and rain. He found Unohana walking with Zaraki almost halfway to the fourth division, the taller Captain holding an umbrella for the shorter woman. She looked up at Hitsugaya, their eyes locking as they stared at each other in confusion for a moment, the rain blurring their faces.

"She isn't with you?" he questioned, something icy sliding down to form a rock in his stomach.

Unohana blinked, her normally calm smile wavering for the briefest of moments. "No, I haven't seen her since her checkup earlier," she hesitated, "is she not with you?"

He shook his head and turned to head back to Matsumoto. Something was wrong. His vice-captain was waiting for him outside their rooms, her brow creased and a dark frown sliding across her features. "She wasn't there," she said slowly, carefully.

"Go and see if Nanao came by," he said, turning once more.

"Where are you going?"

"To find her," he said, before folding the umbrella. "I will meet you at the fourth division." And then he was gone.

He threw caution to the wind and let his feet take him where they would; her reiatsu was strong enough for him to find her if he could lock onto it. He paused on one of the rooftops, letting his eyes close as he blocked out the rain and the thunder that was ripping and echoing through the sky, an eerie moment of familiarity. Only tonight it was bitterly cold, and this time he had nothing to do with the storm.

His eyes flashed open as he turned counter clockwise, in the direction of the city gates. His breath caught in his throat; she was there, outside the protection of the city. Her spirit was a weak thing burning brightly for the briefest of moments before flickering in the night air. It was during a flicker that he sensed it… something that shouldn't have been there was far to close to her for his own comfort. Again, _shunpo_ came to his aid as he darted through the rain filled night. He had found her.

She was further out than what he would have originally estimated, in a nearby field lit by several pole lights placed for late night death god training expeditions. He found Hinamori under one of the lights.

He relaxed, his eyes narrowing at her position, a large knife held in front of her in a defensive position, her body tense. It was only when he heard the telltale sign of a hollow's laughter that Maika's words came rushing back to him. _'There was a hollow… maybe two.'_

The second hollow... it had either escaped or hidden itself during his brief battle with the first... a hollow that he had neither seen nor sensed. He didn't give himself time to think.

Hyourinmaru came neatly to his hands once more, swinging down in a wide arch to slide through the back of the hollow's head. It didn't even have time to scream in protest; one moment it stood between him and Hinamori, the next it had dissolved and he had a clear image of the woman in front of him.

She was turned to the side, her hands clutching at her side, a knife in one hand.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded, turning to face her, one hand white with the force that he was gripping Hyourinmaru with.

She turned and he froze.

"Go away Hitsugaya," she spat, her eyes wide with fear and anxiety. She turned to face him and he gained his first glance at her pale features, the blood that was streaking down her arm, and expression in her eyes.

"_Hinamori_..." His words were a whisper, the rage and anger sliding out of him.

"I _can't_ do this anymore Hitsugaya." Her words were soft, her own rage subsiding as quickly as it had hit him.

And just like that he knew she was going to leave him again. His fingers tightened around his sword even as the rain began to slack off, allowing him a better view of the girl in front of him.

"Can't do what, Hinamori?" he questioned, taking a half step forward.

"I can't live in a world where I can no longer separate truth from reality." Her voice cracked as she continued to step backwards. "I can't escape my dreams; I can't find any rest or peace here." He could see the tears streaming down her face now. The rain subsiding to a mere drizzle, the rain water dripping from her skin and clothes was red from the blood that was oozing from the cuts the hollow had made along her pale skin. She was hurt. The knife in her hand flashed in warning.

"You once promised me you would try."

She smiled a bitter smile. "I made a lot of promises. I even called you Shiro-chan once," a distant, almost fond look crossed her eyes, the remembrance of petulant child? He did not know, did not care.

"You were my bed-wetter Momo." It was a statement so uncharacteristic of him, but he was loosing ground with her. Could see it in her posture, in the defeat in her eyes, he wasn't sure what had brought this on. He had seen it building between them for the last several days, seen the mistrust, felt the tension, but he had not expected this.

She was running and he couldn't let her do that.

"Things have changed, Captain. We can never go back to those days." She looked down at her bleeding arms, her gaze sliding to her blood soaked robes, and smiled bitterly. "I am no longer that girl."

"You don't have to be that girl, Hinamori." He sounded ridiculous even to his own ears. So unused to discussing what he truly felt, his words were halting, his ability to speak to her clearly gone. "You're stronger than this; don't give Aizen the final victory."

"What do you know of it?" she demanded, her eyes filling with the temper he had so longed to see in the last few weeks. "I _loved him_," she snarled, anger flashing through her wounded eyes. "I gave him _everything_!" Then, just as quickly as it had come, her temper left her in a rush. "And now..."

Fresh tears formed in her eyes. "There's nothing left for you, Hitsugaya."

He sheathed Hyourinmaru. "You don't have to give me anything." And she didn't. She had already given him so much over the course of their lives here in Soul Society. If anything, he owed_ her_.

She smiled, even as her expression turned helpless. He wanted to reach out and hold her to him, but she only stepped backwards again, away from him. There was a long silence. "You love me." It was a simple statement, a fact, and he couldn't hide the shock and surprise that hit him with her words. "I realized that today," her smiled turned bitter, "but I can't give it back, not even friendship. I can't give you... anything."

"It doesn't matter," he countered, his voice growing desperate, and he worked hard to reel it in, to keep control. "All I ask for is a chance, Hinamori." This is what the confused looks she had been giving him meant; this is what all the tension and hurt that had built up in her was going to boil down to.

Whether or not she was willing to try, even now.

She shook her head. "I can't; it's too late. I made my choices, Hitsugaya, first to follow Aizen." She swallowed. "And now to leave." She raised her arm and for the first time he was able to see the long, thin gash that slid across her wrist. It was jagged and curved, the mark of the hollow that had attacked her, and it was bleeding rapidly. But not hard or strong enough to have been a hit to the artery that would have done so much more damage to her body. He swallowed the panic and fear and concentrated on her.

She smiled a rather wistful smile. "You won't have to worry about me anymore."

She was taking away his choices again, leading in the dance and forcing steps upon him that were not his. His temper flared, his own anger and frustration finally breaking through the barriers he held so tightly. "You never asked me what I wanted, Hinamori." She froze, her eyes widening at the abrupt change in his tone.

He took a steady step forward; she took one back. He took another. She held up her knife, her eyes wide. "Stay back!" she said, shaking her head. "I already chose! You can't make me go back," she whispered. "I won't do this anymore."

He ignored her, continuing his slow pace towards her until her back was up against the single light pole in the area and he was staring down at her, grateful for the first time for his superior height. "Even when we were children," he continued where he had left off, "and you ran away to become a death god, you never asked. You just assumed that everything was alright." They were practically nose-to-nose now, his larger frame dwarfing hers. He did not care. "And I let you believe that." Another deep breath.

"You're assuming again, Hinamori. That everything will be alright, just like when you left before." He reached up with nimble fingers and took the knife from her and threw it across the path. He was still angry, angry with her for putting him in this position, for letting a hollow almost take her from him when he had worked so hard and so long to help her find her way back. To make sure she had something to come back to. "You're assuming you know what I want.

"But you never asked, Hinamori."

He tore off a piece of his captain's cloak, retrieved from Maika once they had caught up with the team of healers who had been taking her back to the city, and in one swift movement, he cradled her hand in his. She did not seem to notice, too busy staring at him as if he had grown another head. He wrapped the cloth around her wrist; it would not stop the bleeding, but it would help slow the blood loss until he could get her Unohana, until she was ready to listen.

His voice softened to a gentle rumble. "I want a chance. Stay with us, give us the time we need to help you." He watched her carefully; if he said too much he would scare her badly, if he didn't say enough he would lose her. "A chance, that's it." Her eyes were softening now the cold anger and self-hatred were fading from her gaze.

"I… I don't know if I can." Her voice was breaking as her resolve slowly started to crumble. Her eyes lost focus as she let herself drift through her memories. "I already tried, but... they didn't want me." He had to strain to catch her words.

His heart broke for her even as the hatred he had battled time and time again rose up against Aizen and his games. "You're stronger than this, Hinamori." It was the same gentle, coaxing tone, the same easy movements. "And you have our strength too." He was certain he was muddling this up. He had spoken more words in the last five minutes than he normally spoke in a month. But he had to make her see. Make her understand.

She hiccupped.

"A chance, Hinamori."

Her resistance crumbled. It was like watching the air burst from a balloon. One second she was standing tall, stubborn, with her chin up as she faced him down, the next she was falling. She hit the ground to fast for him to catch her; he simply kneeled in the rain next to her.

"I don't know you anymore…" she whispered. "I don't even know myself."

"We can learn again," he informed her, his words steel against her protests. "We can start over."

"It's not enough anymore," she sighed. "I dream so many things. I can't even remember what's fiction and what's reality." She met his gaze now. "I have all these memories that no one else remembers, that no one else can explain to me. I dream that my world has opened up and left me hanging by my fingertips, if I fall I am doomed but if I hang on I destroy myself." She shuddered. "And always, always, I fail to find you."

_Failed to find him?_ He filed it away for later. Right now he needed to draw her back to him, and the world that waited so patiently for her to return. He could question her later.

His eyes hardened, his resolve forming quickly as he ignored the rain, the cold, and the desperation that was locked so tightly in her eyes. Instead, he reached forward and grasped her cold hands with his warm ones and let go. Let go of his shields, of his indecision, his agony knowing that she was not truly letting him in, that she was not letting herself push past that final barrier and start to heal.

He let go of his fear, his pride, his anger, everything. Until not even Hyourinmaru could be seen swirling in the depths of his gaze; for the first time in a long time, he let her see. Let her see the man that had grown to replace the boy that she had loved so fiercely. Let her see beyond the barriers of ice and snow that he had long ago erected against the rest of the world.

He let her see what her never-failing love and patience had created in him.

She wavered.

He could see it in her stance, in her eyes. The resistance that had lain so clearly in her gaze was cracking, shivering, sliding into a brittle wall that would not hold up for long. He held, he did not know how long, how far he pushed his walls and his hesitations, he bared his soul. And she soaked it up.

Brown eyes stared into his for long moments, absorbing everything, to him she looked like a starving woman who was suddenly finding what she needed, hope lit somewhere behind her eyes, a small dim spark in the turmoil that had escaped her. One hand reached up and cupped his cheek and she moved closer, nose to nose, they stared at each other; one offering and one receiving.

And then… she crumbled.

Her eyes filled with something he could not read; could not understand. And the hope flared brightly before dimming into nothingness, even as she pulled back and moved away, he knew it had not been enough. She was going to leave him, return to the dreams that had taken her away from him once before.

As she pulled away, something snapped within him, the part of him that had always claimed her as his fought back, would not let her leave like this. For that spark, that tiny flame of hope within him that belonged only to her would not be silent.

He didn't realize that he was kissing her until he heard the startled noise that emitted from the back of her throat and by then he didn't care. Her small body tensed and then relaxed as she fell against his chest in a silent surrender.

Finding his answer in her silent movements, he ignored the raging moments of the storm, ignored the million thoughts that were racing through him, the things his body would later remind him of. He kissed her unresisting mouth until there could be no_ doubt_ in her mind that he spoke nothing but the truth to her. That his eyes had not been lying, that he would not, could not, lose her, not here, not now, not like this.

He pulled back, barely aware of the rain that still poured down on them in harsh torrents, and watched her. Her eyes opened slowly, and when they did what he saw sent his heart pounding and the blood rushing to his toes. Understanding, heat, want, the desperate edge that had been so visible in her eyes earlier had slipped away, for the moment at least.

She licked her lips slowly before closing her eyes. He watched her for several long moments, trying to gauge her reaction, to see if she had understood his message. A slight tinge of panic was slowly edging its way up from his stomach; years of training ruthlessly shoved it away. He would not regret whatever action it took to keep her with him, he would _not_.

She collapsed against him a few moments later, and he held her carefully, her breathing soft against his neck. "I…I…" she swallowed.

"Later," he whispered softly, letting his hand brush against the top of her head carefully.

"Thank you," she whispered, her hands tightening in his cloak for the briefest of moments. He swallowed and nodded, not understanding everything that she was telling him. She smiled then, a weak smile, but it lit her eyes with a familiar light and he relaxed at that.

"I think I need to see Unohana now," she whispered, her eyes closing as her body went limp against his.

It was a silent acknowledgement of his words, of what he had tried to give her tonight. But her small agreement to try was there, was in her trust and her acknowledgement, and for now that was enough.

And that was all he would ask of her.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN**: All right so here is the last chapter of Awakenings. It is, unfortunately, not betaed. Though I have combed over it several times myself, if anyone _wants_ to go back over it for me, I am more than happy to accept the offer. My current beta is overloaded with schoolwork and real life things and so it would be several more weeks and possible Christmas break before we would be able to sit down and go over it together. Because of this, I am looking for another beta to help her with the workload of my writings if anyone is interested.

It has been a long journey, far longer than I had originally thought it would be. A big thank you to everyone who has commented, reviewed, offered suggestions, and put up with the delays in updates. The constant comments and encouragement are what got me through this monster and kept me going.

Thank you so much and I hope you all enjoy this last installment to Awakenings.

**Chapter 9 **

He stayed with her through out the night. Unohana and the healers had worked with quick efficiency and besides a few bandages along her arms and underneath her sleeping _yukata_, Hinamori looked normal. Her skin was a bit pale from her fresh blood lose but otherwise it was as if it was a regular night's sleep that she was rising from instead of one brought on by the drugs and lack of blood.

For all of that he was comforted by the steady rise and fall of her chest as he had not been before during her long coma.

Things were changing again.

He wasn't sure where these changes were going to take him. He had not given it any thought. Everything since her awakening had been set in discovering what held her captive in her mind even as her body healed, before it had been riddled with the thoughts of when she would wake, if she would wake.

He was no longer completely sure of the path that he would walk. He had no direction, no goals. He had been putting his life on hold as awaited her return to it. Now she was awake and things were finally starting to look as if they would change. He was not walking out on blind faith. Hinamori still had miles to walk before he would consider her healed. He wasn't even entirely sure if she would ever completely heal. At least now, however, he knew she was willing to try. With that, in time, perhaps she would let herself live again.

That was all he could allow himself to hope for.

He had watched with careful eyes as the healers had diagnosed her and had only left her long enough for them to clean the wounds that lay under her robes. The chair that he spent so much time in during his rare free hours during and after the war was settled besides her bed once more.

Here in the quiet of the fourth division and within the protected walls of her hospital room he allowed himself to think and to plan. He had brought several outlines to work on; things that would help him and Matsumoto plan the division's future. They had dreamed and thought of what they would do once the war was over and now that the last pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, he felt as if he could reliably work towards those goals. Where they wanted to take the division, what they needed to work on, their strengths and their weaknesses the still remained even two years after the war. The last two years had been focused on recovery and survival after the war but now that was changing.

But even the quiet scratch of the pen in the still silence of the room had distracted him. The outline was half formed thoughts and plans that they had only started to put together before he had set his paper aside. Instead, he folded his hands in his sleeves and returned to watching her rest. She looked peaceful, for all the stress she had to have placed on her body that night. It was a pleasant change from the deathly quite of her coma.

She woke slowly, her hand moving to cover her eyes as she groaned softly in the pre-dawn light. He set aside his pen, pushing aside the papers that he had been steadily working through once he had managed to put his restlessness aside several hours earlier.

He watched as she blinked several times before groggily peeking around the room. She turned to face him. Her breath hitched for a moment before she tried to push herself up. He went to stand but she shook her head rapidly, eyes widening in warning, and he settled himself back into his chair. She tried again and finally managed to push herself up on her shaking arms and settle against the headboard.

They watched each other for several moments before he stood. He moved the chair to a position directly in front of her and sat once more. She swallowed before offering him a hesitant smile. He watched her carefully. They were on even ground now and that seemed to ease the tension in her.

"What happened last night?" He might as well be the icebreaker. She had all the information that he wanted and he was through with games.

She sighed and looked down, gently rubbing the material of the blanket between her thumb and forefinger. He let her distract herself for several minutes, her gaze thoughtful. He wanted to give her the time to think that she needed but he didn't dare leave the unanswered questions between them any longer.

"Hinamori," he broke the silence again.

She sighed before looking up. Her eyes were clouded with the various emotions that were running through her, the most prominent of them being fear. It was his turn to sigh. He reached forward and caught her hand, pushing aside his own inhabitations to offer her what little comfort he could.

He was surprised when she slid her fingers through his, her grip tightening to an almost desperate hold. She swallowed again, "Hitsugaya…. I," she stopped, her voice cracking on the last note her expression tense.

"Take your time."

"When Matsumoto left I started to think," she said quietly, this time she was the one who broke the silence. Her gaze was locked firmly on their joined hands as she refused to look up and meet his gaze. She looked up for the briefest of moments her gaze skittering across his, before ducking her head once more. "Things always hit me harder when I am alone and …,"she sighed, "I was tired of making you all worry so much."

His eyes narrowed in displeasure.

She sighed, "I… I can't explain it," she said after a few moments hesitation.

"Last night you said you could never reach me, what did you mean?" He could read her nervousness, could read the signs of tension in her small frame but even after half a night of wondering he could not pull the information he needed to understand that cryptic comment. There were too many variables.

He knew she was scared. The fear in her eyes and the slight tremble of her hand told him that much. But he was not certain if it was him she was afraid of or herself. The tug on his fingers and the way she was doing her best to anchor herself to him by holding to his hand as tightly as she was told him that she was willing but not sure which step to take. He could read the signs but he could not completely understand the message.

She looked up startled, her eyes going wide with surprise. "I did?"

He nodded.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before sighing, "I dreamed a lot of things Hitsugaya, some of them I remember quite clearly and some of them I don't remember at all." She looked down, "they are vague senses and shapes that only appear when something triggers the memory. Captain Unohana said I was repressing them as a form of defense against the knowledge. I… I am not sure." Her breath hitched for the briefest of moments. Her fingers tightened on his hand and he ran his thumb across the soft skin of her wrist in reassurance, "there was one dream in which you were running away from me," her voice got lower with each word. The further she got to the end of her sentence the more he was forced to lean forward to catch her words, "and no matter how hard I chased you I could never really catch you."

She paused for a few moments, her eyes lowering so he couldn't see whatever emotion she was concealing from him, "there was also a dream where I chased Aizen as well but I always fell into a pool of blood screaming just as my fingers grasped the sleeve of his robe."

This time it was his fingers tightening around her smaller hand in offered comfort. This was what the haunted shadows in her eyes had meant.

"Aizen is dead Hinamori." His voiced remained gentle but he could not hide the steel that creped into his voice with that man's name. She looked up, startled. "Ukitate and Ichigo were the ones to finally bring his treachery to an end. I was there but my contribution was more of a distraction to those who would interfere with the actual battle."

She swallowed, "was it a fast death?"

He reminded himself that he had been her captain. That she had not seen the carnage the man had caused or the lives he had taken. She remembered the kind man who had made her tea and talked about his dreams with her. It had been a lie. But it was what she had known. "As fast as Ukitate could make it at that time." Which was the truth or as much of it as he would give her. Ukitate has chosen the manner in which Aizen would die, had carried out the plan to the letter. In the end he and Ichigo had destroyed a man who had ruined so much of their worlds.

It had not been a pretty death but it had been a just one. And it had been quicker than he would have made it had he been given the choice.

"The war… how many did we lose?"

"Too many, half of the ranks were wiped out early on and even as they were filled we continued to lose many." She was not the only ones who was haunted by dreams.

"I dreamed of battle sometimes," she admitted, "but it was never anything like what that must have been."

"Battle?"

Se nodded, "yes. I dreamed of attacking you again," her eyes lowered, "only sometimes I would actually attack you and win." Her free hand clutched the bed covers; again, she refused to look at him. "In those dreams I would have your blood on my hands and there was nothing I could do to remove it… others… others I failed and Ichimaru got to you before I could stop him."

"Why Ichimaru?" he could only wonder how much she had known before Aizen had stabbed her.

"He killed my captain," she looked up with watery eyes, "why not you to?"

"I am not dead Hinamori."

She nodded using her free hand to wipe at her eyes, "I know."

He reached up with gentle fingers and brushed at her tears when her fingers faltered. "Do you?" he questioned. She looked at him startled though at his touch or his words he did not know. He drew his fingers back, "Aizen did not kill me in any world, in this one or in the next. I am sorry that the man you knew is gone," again, he let his fingers trail gently over her wrist offering comfort. "But I am not sorry he is no longer among us."

She hesitated for a moment, her mouth opening and closing several times. He watched it play across her features, the hesitation, the warring within herself. "Do you know why he…" she hesitated again, chewing on her bottom lip, "why he did what he did?"

"At best we can tell? He wanted what power he could gain and he found a new way to gain it, he was after the Royal City," he said sitting back a bit, to give himself time to explain. "He wanted the power that comes from the hollow, death god fusion, and he wanted the god-like status that control over such a place would give him." She looked stricken, her face paling a bit more with each word; he wanted to comfort her, to keep this knowledge from her. He could do neither. "And as far as we can tell, he wanted to destroy the death gods."

A single tear slid down her cheek, she reached up and wiped it away quickly, her motions jerky and full of anger, her reiatsu spiked and he squeezed her hand. "I am sorry."

"I should have seen," she murmured, her gaze moving past him and out to the window beside her bed, "I should have realized something was off."

"No one could have predict…"

"He was my Captain," she cut him off, jerking her hand from his to motion angrily; "I spent _hours_ with him a day." She sniffed, wiping at her red eyes, "I should have known something was wrong," her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"And what of those who knew him longer than you? Of Ukitate who trained him and led him to be the captain we thought he was?" He would brook no argument with her on this. She looked up, startled, her eyes wide, hands frozen in position around her face as she gaped at him. He gentled his tone, "Hinamori you did all you could have done. You trusted and believed a man who by all accounts deserved that trust. You are not to blame."

She dropped her hands and her eyes lowered, "I didn't trust you," she whispered. She hiccupped then.

He hesitated a moment, before reaching out and grasping her hand once more, again her fingers slid through his willingly curling around his larger hand. "Do not trouble yourself over the past.'

She shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze, "I… I attacked you," she curled her free hand into a fist, "with my own two hands."

"And I forgave you the moment you did so."

Her head shaking became more violent, "how could you? I… betrayed what friendship we had."

"Look at me Hinamori," he coaxed, tugging gently on her hand to get her point across. "Hinamori," he said again when she refused to look up. Her wet lashes parted and she peeked up at him, her eyes cautious.

"Do not trouble yourself over something that happened so long ago. I did not blame you then and I do not blame you now."

"I am so sorry," she whispered. "How could you even look at me when I woke?" Her voice cracked then and the tears she had been holding back slipped down her face, forming fresh tracks down her cheeks. He froze, uncertain as to what he should do. She pulled her hand from his, using her hands to hide her face as her shoulders shook against the oncoming assault.

"Hina… mori…" he didn't know what to do. He had thought, naively, that she had spent all the tears that her small body had to cry.

She leaned forward and he reached up to awkwardly pat her shoulder, she peeked between her fingers and he hesitated a moment longer before shifting forward in his chair and moving to sit on the corner of her bed. "Don't cry," he said, reaching up to pat her head with a gentle hand.

She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder, a bold move for her, and he continued to pat her back. He shifted a bit and she fell forward a bit more, using him for a rest, he wrapped an arm around her back holding her awkwardly.

Her tears slowly ebbed and when they were nothing but mere sniffles he began to talk. "I spent two years wishing for nothing more than you to wake," he said carefully, choosing his words slowly. "There were some days when I wondered if you would come back at all. It was not a pleasant time, watching you slowly waste away to nothing, knowing that I could have done something to stop this but was unable to."

She looked up, eyes red, and her lashes wet with her tears, again he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "As I said, I forgave you long ago. It was never your fault. Both of us were played by a man who knew what he was doing. I cannot blame you for following your instincts and trying to revenge the man you loved as your captain. The blame was long ago placed at Aizen's feet and there it will stay."

Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and she ducked her head again. "Thank you."

He grunted in return, not entirely sure that he liked her thanks, not here. "Why did you run?"

She sniffled once, before sighing and looking back up at him. She watched him for several moments before reaching up and smoothing the lines between his brows, he blinked at her, startled. "Because I was putting lines here," she said softly, letting her hand drop away from his face, "because I was nothing more than a burden to everyone. A child they could not leave alone for any period of time for fear she would hurt herself."

She swallowed, "because I do not have the strength to fight off the worst of my dreams. I am not strong enough."

"You are stronger than you think you are."

She shook her head, "once I might have been. But something changed while I was asleep, I can't find the fire that was once so prominent. I am just a shell of the girl that used to be here."

He was the one shaking his head this time, "you have lost sight of yourself that is all."

"You sound so sure," her tone was almost wistful and he felt the first stirrings of a smile start. She was trying so hard to keep everything in perspective now, to understand, when all she needed to do was concentrate on healing. The rest would come with time.

"I am." And he was. He could sense in her reiatsu, hear it in Tobiume's call to her each day. She was hiding behind her fear and her uncertainty. As soon as she allowed herself to step out from behind her shields, when she embraced the woman that was starting to peek out from behind the fear, she would know it to.

She frowned, "how can you be so certain?"

"Tobiume still calls to you," he motioned to her soul slayer, which hung on the wall next to her bed, "she would not if you no longer held the fire that calls to her."

She _did_ look wistful then, "I can't hear her anymore."

"You're not listening." He would be blunt in this, the captain coming to the fore before the man. The captain held the knowledge she needed now even as the man held the comfort she clung to.

She frowned, "you don't think I have tried? That I want to go through life without being able to hear her cry any longer?"

"Stop trying." It was such a simple solution that he had used for so many of his subordinates who were struggling with the call of their soul slayer. When they stopped trying, when they let themselves relax and listen to the call that had always been there, they would finally reach the understanding they needed.

Otherwise, they were just fighting what was already there. Hinamori was doing this now.

Her fingers twitched and her eyes narrowed, "you are very frustrating."

His lips curled up in a small smile. Her eyes lit up at the look before she looked back down at her lap. "Will you send Matsumoto my apologies for worrying her?" her words were low and soft with uncertainty once more.

He leaned back, settling in his chair once more, letting her reclaim her hand he crossed his arms and shook his head, "you may tell her later this morning."

She looked up startled. He frowned. "Did you think we were going to make you stay here?"

Her expression turned sheepish.

"For better or worse your part of the tenth division now and while that may change once your strong enough to move on, you can not escape Matsumoto." Her lips twitched up into a small smile and he felt his own curl upwards. "Though as your vice-captain she will have plenty to say to you tomorrow."

She nodded, her expression easing a bit further as she leaned back into her pillows, her eyes dropping slightly with exhaustion. He frowned; she had worn herself out again. It was partly his fault but he would have to fetch Unohana now. He sighed.

"Unohana wanted you to drink some stuff if you woke," he said, standing, "I will see if I can find her."

She nodded, "thank you," she said again, her expression turning serious.

He shook his head, "don't thank me Hinamori," his words were soft. He gave her just enough time to let them sink in, her eyes widening slightly before he moved out of the room, his captains cloak trailing behind him.

Unohana was working on paperwork, a steaming cup of tea sitting on her desk, her graceful fingers sliding through the papers neatly. "Hinamori is awake."

She looked up, her expression serene though he was certain that he had startled her. "I will be there shortly," she assured him, standing and moving across the room to grab a bag of something. "I will need a few minutes to examine her."

He nodded, following at a slower pace.

"Is everything all right now?"

He turned in time to see Matsumoto walk through the doors.

"It will be."

"Good." She moved to stand next to him, arms crossing as she adopted the same posture of waiting that he was in.

He frowned for a brief moment. She had known and she had thrown it in face. He had not expected her to know, had not prepared himself for the knowledge that she would be able to read him so clearly, for all that he had lost the ability to read what she did not let him see. Had not expected her to notice the silent clues that had only become visible since she had gone into her coma, did not know exactly how he felt about her knowing how felt towards her. His brows lowered further in thought, he would have to deal with it later.

It was unusual. He had always known, from the moment they had first met, what was going on behind her brown eyes. What thoughts were troubling her. She had kept so much from him, done her best to protect him even as she destroyed herself in her quest. They would have to start anew.

That didn't bother him as much as it might have once. As long as she was willing to give them all the chance that they needed to help her heal, as long as she was willing to stay and to try, he was confident he could manage whatever she asked of him.

Unohana's examination was quick. She walked out a few minutes later and offered them her serene smile before disappearing around the corner. He turned to his vice-captain and quirked a brow at her in question, she shook her head. "I will see her later today."

She smiled. "She doesn't need me right now." She called over her shoulder as she followed Unohana's footsteps out the door.

He joined Hinamori in her room once more, settling his tall frame into the chair beside her bed. She looked at him, her eyes full of sleep. "Hitsugaya," she said, softly, turning to face him, tucked under the covers as a small child would have been.

He let his brow rise in answer to her question.

"About last night," she started and he shook his head to interrupt her.

"I already said that you shouldn't worry about the past."

She frowned, "I said some things… I …"

"I do not expect anything from you," he said, leaning back in his chair watching her carefully.

She watched him for several long moments before nodding, her eyes sliding shut with his words. "Thank you."

He sighed, "Stop thanking me Hinamori."

Her lips curled upwards into a small smile, but she made no other noise, her breathing softening and deepening. He watched her for several moments before standing; he tucked the blanket a bit more firmly around her shoulders before turning. He was startled when her hand shot out and caught his wrist.

He looked down, eyes widening with shock.

She didn't open her eyes, keeping them firmly shut, "stay," she whispered, her voice soft with the need to sleep.

"You need to rest."

Her eyes cracked open then, "please."

He settled back in the chair, "I will stay," he agreed.

She curled her fingers back into his, her grip tight, as if assuring herself that he would keep his word. He watched her sleep, her small frame rising and falling with each breath as her dreams finally caught up with her.

He hoped that this time, at least, they would bring her peace.

He stayed there for the remainder of the night. It was only two or three hours until dawn and he was certain that the sedative that she had been given would only last for a few hours. She was peaceful this night, her body never moving from its position, her fingers curled under her cheek where they had strayed once her grip on his hand had relaxed in the night.

He stood just as gray light began to pour into the small room. He moved to the window, his eyes taking in the ever-gradual lightning of the sky.

The sun was rising.

He looked up beyond the treetops. It would be a beautiful sunrise. The gentle hues and colors that would soon follow the rising of the sun would become a signal that it was time to rise and start the new day.

It had been a long time since he had been able to appreciate the beauty of the morning.

A small hand slipped tiny fingers between his and he looked down, both brows rising in surprise. She laid her head against his arm, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She was too short to rest her head against his shoulder as she once had. She relaxed against him in sleepy contentment.

"Its morning," she said, tightening her fingers around his.

He squeezed her hand in return. "So it is," he agreed, content to simply stand with her, her fingers curled around his, he felt his lips move into his first real smile since before the war had started, "so it is."

The morning had finally come.

- The End


End file.
